Southern Traditions
by ilovetvalot
Summary: Rossi/OC - What happens when a feisty southern secretary collides with an arrogant legendary profiler? Magic. AU
1. Chapter 1

Southern Traditions

Chapter 1

Somewhere along the way, Elizabeth Grace Winstead had allowed herself to be surrounded by lunatics. Stark raving crazies, running rampant through the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Loveable loonies, but crazy as bedbugs nonetheless. She wasn't even exactly sure how it had happened. But she chose to blame her cousin. Her second cousin, twice removed but her cousin nonetheless. After all, in the South, family WAS family. Most days, she thought Aaron Hotchner was her own personal savior. But, there were days, few and far between though they may be, that she thought that familial relationship was a curse of epic proportions. And, this, THIS was one of those days. Working on a Sunday of all things. If her daddy ever found out, Cousin Hotch was in for a sermon the likes of which he'd never heard preached before.

Sighing, Elizabeth reached for the stack of files she needed to distribute for the morning meeting. A staff meeting on a Sunday! Who ever heard tell of such a thing? But Hotch has assured her over breakfast that it was a necessity. The team had issues they needed to discuss and since their team was up for new cases this week, this might be the only opportunity they had to have one. Grabbing a file off the stack, she began to set up each team member's place at the table. The six members of this particular BAU unit were so different….each bringing his or her own particular skill to the table…but in the six months she'd worked here, she had to admit, as a whole, they were an impressive group of people. Singularly, well, she'd let those sleeping dogs lie in the sun.

Setting up Aaron's place at the table was easy. She'd known the man her entire life. Heavens, he'd been more big brother than cousin anyway. Aaron Hotchner was a good man. And she wouldn't just say that because he was kin folk. No, he had a good heart and even better character. She preferred to think he'd inherited those traits from her daddy's side of the family. He'd saved her, after all…after that disastrous engagement for that weasel she'd almost had to call a husband. No, she owed Aaron. Pouring his coffee into his favorite black mug, she absently added the creamer. Always the gentlemen, she knew he always put the best interest of his team ahead of his own. And she admired him for that. He was living proof that you could take the boy out of the South, but nobody could take those good ole Southern values out of the boy. Laying his file in the center of his placemat, she quickly grabbed a fresh blueberry muffin and placed it in the center of a saucer. Putting it beside the file, she moved on to the next place at the table.

Emily Prentiss. Now, Lizzie thought with a small smile, was a woman that her mama would say was a true lady. Always proper…always well spoken…Lizzie wondered if maybe she should make some notes on what not to do when she was around Em. She knew Agent Prentiss was some kind of Ambassador's daughter, but the woman's life was a closed book…and Lizzie had always been taught that closed books were generally closed for a reason. But, she thought, pouring the cappuccino that Emily preferred into a real coffee mug from the paper cup it was in, she did like the woman. She was always organized and always on time…things Lizzie enjoyed in a co-worker. Putting her non-fat berry muffin on a saucer, she moved to the next vacant spot.

Dr. Spencer Reid. Now, Lord have mercy, there was a hodge podge of scary characteristics that made up that young man. Personally, she thought of the brilliant doctor as a cross between Albert Einstein and Sigmund Freud. That man was so smart it was frightening. But endearing, too. Daddy would say that he thought Dr. Reid was a little light in the loafers….but not her. No…Dr. Reid…what was that biological term she'd heard years ago? Asexual…yes, that was it. She didn't believe the good doctor went one way or the other…he just was, bless his heart. Putting his file, chocolate milk and chocolate donut on his placemat, Lizzie moved on.

Jennifer Jareau. Smiling, Lizzie thought of the pleasant blonde woman. She liked JJ. She was warm and real. A welcome change after some of the nut jobs she'd met since coming to the crazy big city. It helped that they were both small town girls that had decided to attempt to make their way in the big bad city. They had a lot in common and it wasn't hard to see why her cousin relied on her so much. And it didn't hurt that she'd been smart enough to find herself a good southern guy. Will LaMontagne was a burnin' hunk of man. Not her type, but still heaven to look at. Placing her file, creamed and sugared coffee and protein bar on the mat, she grinned as she stepped into the next slot at the table.

Derek Morgan. If she didn't kill that hunk, it was gonna be a bloomin' miracle. She blamed him for the bad mood she was in today. Him and his doggone blind date match ups. The next time she heard him proclaim the merits of a perspective mate, she was gonna feed him to the wolves personally. Or better yet, tell on him to Penelope. She knew the handsome black man had what mama would call commitment issues, but still. But he did seem to care about Penelope and he definitely got points for that. Putting his black coffee on the mat and adding his French Crueler to the saucer, she popped a file in the center and moved on.

Penelope Garcia. Pushing her curly red hair behind her ear, Lizzie smiled widely. Now, Penelope…that was her favorite person. Penny was what mama would call a little touched in the head…of course, daddy would never be that tactful…he'd just call her bat shit crazy…but Lizzie had decided long ago that Garcia was the MOST unique individual she'd ever met. Kind, generous and giving, that plucky blonde and pink haired woman had taken her under her wing immediately. And Lizzie owed her. BIG! Placing her Red Bull, file and double stuffed Oreos on the mat, she looked over at the last empty spot at the table and felt her smile turn upside down.

HIM! David "Big Britches" Rossi! The bane of her existence. If there was one thorn in her rose bush, it was him. No matter what she did, it never suited him and she'd decided a month ago that if he was gonna be a permanent Mr. Grumpy Pants, she take her granny's long time advice - when in doubt kill a man with kindness. Smiling grimly as she poured the hot tea that she knew he hated into his long standing red coffee mug, she slammed a tasteless bran muffin onto a saucer and slammed it onto his mat. Tossing his file haphazardly on top, she released a satisfied breath.

Walking toward the door, she released a deep breath. The team would be here soon and they could get this done. If she was lucky, she'd make it to the evening service at the Baptist church three blocks down on time. Maybe. Her hand was on the door when she heard his irate yell. Rolling her eyes, she mentally calculated how much she'd be charging David Rossi for the swear words flowing copiously from his mouth and idly wondered whether Palmolive or Sunlight was a better cleanser for his filthy mouth.


	2. Chapter 2

**Southern Tradition**

**Chapter 2**

Jerking open the door a second later, Lizzie came face to broad chest with one very irate Italian. Lifting her head to stare up into angry black eyes, she shivered involuntarily. Lord, if there was one thing she hated, it was dealing with a persnickety man first thing in the morning. Taking a step back from him as he dropped the hands he'd shot out to steady her, she glared up at him. "Agent Rossi! Haven't we had this conversation before? It gives me the heebie jeebies when you loom over me like that! You'd think with all those psychology degrees that you'd have learned something about personal space! And you owe the jar five dollars!" she said, stepping around him.

"You!" he sputtered, pointing an accusing finger as he followed her to her desk.

"Me, what?" Lizzie asked, not bothering to look back at him. "Go on! Let me have it! What have I gone and done THIS time to rile you into pitchin' a fit first thing this morning?" she asked nonchalantly.

David Rossi took a deep breath and looked at the tiny redheaded menace in front of him. Striving for patience, he breathed deeply and prayed he could resist temptation and not wrap his hands around her attractive neck and squeeze the life right out of her. It was such a lovely neck, after all. He could not kill this woman, he told himself. It would be in exceptionally poor form to kill his best friend's convoluted relation. At least, that's what he kept reminding himself. Everyone said he'd miss her if she was gone. At the moment, he found that impossible to believe.

"Well," she said, propping one hand on a shapely hip. "Are you gonna sit there like a bump on a log or tell me what has your panties in a twist?"

"What?" he said, squinting his eyes as he tried to decipher the strange language that only she and Will LaMontagne seemed to speak.

"What do you want, Agent Rossi?" Lizzie asked, enunciating each word.

Watching her mouth move, Dave reminded himself that he wasn't supposed to be wondering what her lips would taste like. Forcing his mind to recall why he was angry, he suddenly remembered. His office! That southern spitfire had desecrated his office!

"Goddamn it, Lizzie! How many fucking times in how many fucking ways do I need to say this! Stay the hell out of my office!"

Eyes widening at the use of those vulgar words, they quickly narrowed as she took a step forward. Holding out a hand, Lizzie bit out, "Sixteen dollars! Now!"

"What?!" Dave asked incredulously.

"Two f-words, one gd-word and an h, e, double hockey sticks! That equates to sixteen dollars! And you'd better have cash because I ain't runnin' no credit operation here!" she hissed.

"I'll be damned," Dave said with an eye roll heavenward.

"Make that seventeen dollars!"

Pressing his lips together, Dave said tightly, "Look, Scarlett, I don't know how they do things in Podunk, Georgia or wherever the hell-"

"Eighteen dollars! And it's Piermont, Georgia," Lizzie corrected on a shout

"you're from, but here in D.C. when our boss gives us a direction, we do what the damn hell he says!" Rossi raged.

"You're up to twenty bucks, Rossi! You wanna keep going cause I gotta warn you, the fines double from here on out!" Lizzie declared, angrily shaking the decorated cussin' jar on her desk at him.

"You little extortionist! Explain to me why it is that Derek Morgan can say the exact same words as myself and he owes half the amount I do, huh? Tell me that!"

"First, my rates vary by word. Taking the Lord's name in vain and the f-word are double. The rates also directly correspond to the amount of income the curser has. You, Agent Moneybags, make a lot of money. The way I hear tell, you're walkin' in high cotton! You can afford it. Lastly, and most importantly, I like Morgan BETTER!" Lizzie shouted.

As Rossi opened his mouth to reply, he was interrupted by the unflappable voice of his Unit Chief behind him. "Would somebody like to explain to me why my world class profiler and my highly competent secretary are standing in the middle of the bullpen screaming bloody murder?" Hotch asked evenly.

"It was his fault!" Lizzie yelled.

"It was her fault!" Dave growled back.

"Oh, good, just a normal morning," Hotch said with an eye roll. "My office, both of you! Now!!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter 3**

As Hotch stood at his desk and watched Lizzie march across his threshold, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to still the laughter building as he saw David Rossi's hand shoot out to steady her as she tripped through the door.

"I got it! I got it!" Lizzie fussed, brushing his hands of her waist.

"My God, woman! You're truly a walking calamity!" Dave growled. "Just do us all a favor! Stand still and for the love of all that's holy, don't touch anything!" he scowled.

"You know, one day your face is gonna freeze in that position right there," Lizzie said, jabbing a finger up into his face. "And won't you just be a pretty sight! Aaron, don't he look like Uncle Andy when he frowns like that?"

"There's definitely a resemblance," Hotch said, clearing his throat and desperately trying not to laugh.

"He had that permanently constipated look, too," Lizze said pleasantly to Rossi. "I swear, he looked like he kept a lemon tucked up in his mouth, didn't it, Aaron?"

"Lizzie, perhaps you'd better just tell me what had you two battling it out in the bullpen."

Smiling politely at Rossi, Lizzie, gestured with her hand. "Mama always said "Age before beauty", Agent Rossi. Start talkin'."

"Did she happen to teach you to respect your damned elders?" Rossi asked sarcastically.

"No, she found that rule to loose…she told me to respect my betters," Lizzie retorted tartly. "I'm just not sure which you are," she added thoughtfully.

"Smartass," Dave mumbled.

"Would one of you just tell me what's going on so that we can get our staff meeting underway," Hotch said evenly, trying to steer his two employees back on track.

"Ask him," Lizzie shrugged. "And while you're at it, could you get my twenty-one dollars?"

"It was twenty," Dave growled.

"You swore again," Lizzie hissed at him.

"Extortionist!"

"Sinner!"

"People!" Hotch shouted above them. "We need to stay on track here!"

"That train's already left the station, cuz!" Lizzie replied.

"Too bad it didn't run you down on the way out! Maybe then I'd be able to make some sense of my office! You threw out my notes, Lizzie! My notes that I've been collecting for six months, Hotch," Dave said, flashing Aaron an angry look. "My editor was counting on me pitching my latest book idea at him tomorrow night and she threw out my NOTES!"

"Oh, poo," Lizzie said, waving a dismissive hand. "I didn't throw away any papers, Agent Rossi. Do I look like I just fell off the turnip wagon?"

"What?" Dave said squinting his eyes at her. Looking over at Hotch desperately, he pointed at Lizzie and yelled, "Aaron, she's doing it again! Talking that strange language that only you and JJ's boyfriend understand! Make her stop!"

"I beg your pardon," Lizzie said belligerently. "I'll have you know that I'm speakin' perfect English!"

"On what planet?" Dave snapped.

"Okay, you two," Hotch said, stepping between them before they could come to blows. "That's enough. Lizzie, what did you throw away in Agent Rossi's office?"

"Hotch, I simply went in and tidied up. Heavens, he's got the entire janitorial crew scared half to death to so much as empty his trash can. I threw out some Styrofoam cups and some napkins…that's all!"

"Those napkins WERE my notes, you redheaded menace to society!"

"You write your notes on napkins?" Hotch asked quizzically.

"You never know when inspiration will strike," Dave retorted sharply. "And that isn't the point! If she'd kept her ass out of my office-"

"Perhaps, Agent Rossi," Lizzie interrupted smoothly, "if you'd check that mailbox to your email more than once in a coon's age, you'd know that those cocktail napkins have been transcribed. Check your computer the next time you decide to deliver me the short end of the stick! Now, if you gentlemen…or should I say gentleMAN will excuse me, I've got work to do!" Lizzie smiled, breezing toward the door.

Stopping in the doorway, Lizzie demanded, "And, Agent Rossi? I do not accept checks either. That'll be twenty-one dollars CASH before you leave the premises today." And with a wink at Hotch, she was gone.

Turning to face his one time protégée, Dave shook his head. "If I were you, I'd have her committed. You're family, Hotch! You could pull it off."

"Oh, Dave," Hotch said, shaking his head. "That's just not how we do things in the south."

"What the hell do you mean by that?" Dave asked.

"In the south we put our crazy people right out there on the front porch for all the world to see," Hotch said, without looking up.

"Now I understand why you left," Dave grunted, following Lizzie out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

******_A/N - Okay, decided to only go Sunday without posting. Please review and let me know ya'll are still reading! And is anybody else seeing their story traffic acting screwy. According to that, I've got practically no readers. I really, really hope that's wrong. LOL! Thanks, guys, and as ever, I own nothing!_**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter 4**

"You know, you can quit snarling like a bear anytime now," Lizzie suggested conversationally as she reached her desk, grabbed her steno pad and continued on her way toward the round table in the war room. Well aware of the obviously irate man behind her, she sighed inwardly as she wondered how much more of his blustering she was going to be treated to today. Well, as her Granny had always said, in for a penny, in for a pound.

"I'll quit snarling when you quit trying to change everything around here," Dave muttered as he followed the energetic ball of fire, digging in his back pocket for his wallet as he walked. Damn woman! Eying her curved backside as he followed her, he frowned as he started to give himself a stern pep talk. The one thing he was not supposed to be doing was imagining what that backside would look like bare of the clothing she wore. And at that moment, his imagination was definitely in overdrive. Shaking his head, he reminded himself that first of all, this woman was demented, and, second, he was pretty sure Hotch wouldn't like it. Nevertheless, he was nothing if not a connoisseur of women…and he'd be willing to wager Elizabeth Winstead would provide a delectable meal, indeed. That was, if she could manage not to give a man food poisoning. And that was a debatable fact. She'd certainly given HIM a fair amount of heart burn in the six months she'd been here.

Following the bouncing redhead to her usual chair in the corner, Rossi fished out a hundred dollar bill from his wallet as the young beauty seated herself, crossing her legs delicately. Forcing himself to keep his eyes above her neck, Rossi slammed the cash down into her soft lap as he growled, "Payment in full. Put the credit on my account."

Lifting the bill to stare at it with a raised brow, she shifted her gaze to Rossi. "This ought to buy you a couple of days," she muttered, then added, weighing her thoughts and words, "Maybe."

"A couple of -," Dave sputtered, his eyes almost bugging out at he shook his head at the human dynamo. No one since his second wife had managed to get money out of him quicker, and for such completely incomprehensible reasons, either.

"Have you ever listened to the language you use, Agent Rossi?" Lizzie asked with a petulant look, flicking the large bill back and forth as she raised a delicate eyebrow. "You'll be lucky if the excess lasts that long!"

Throwing his hands into the air, Dave turned and strode toward his seat at the table, jerking his chair out violently as he glared at her. It was official. Their office had been invaded by a terrorist who could definitely teach Al Queda a few things. "I don't care how Hotch justifies you! You're nothing more than an extortionist." Grabbing his coffee mug as he watched her shrug negligently, he took a long sip as he seated himself behind the table, only to nearly choke on the vile liquid in the mug. Sputtering, he looked down in horror at the pale liquid floating in his black mug as he roared, "What the fuck is THAT!"

"And there's five dollars off your credit," Lizzie said neutrally, making a simple mark in the corner of her notepad. She had learned early that it helped to have written evidence when dealing with the BAU's apparent answer to J.D. Rockefeller.

"Lizzie!" Dave growled precariously, wiping his mouth as he stared at her with dangerous eyes. "What the hell was in that mug?"

"Green tea. No caffeine," she replied evenly, meeting his eyes as she smiled ever-so-sweetly. Nodding once, she added, firmly, "It's good for you."

"I drink coffee," Dave bit out angrily, wondering when his life had been hijacked so seamlessly.

"I don't think you need any more caffeine in your system, Agent Rossi. You're wound tighter than a tick as it is," Lizzie returned calmly, dropping her eyes as she started to scan the notes in her lap. Glancing surreptitiously at her watch, she wondered if she could convince the other members of this team to join this tete-a-tete any time soon. Some people had plans for Sunday, as strange as that thought seemed to be in Washington, D.C.

"Tighter than a what?" Dave asked blankly, cocking his head to the side as he kept his eyes on the gleaming red hair.

"A tick. You know, a bug that sucks your blood," Lizzie explained easily, marking an item off of her to-do list with a flourish.

"I know what a tick is," Dave snapped, dropping back against the leather seat, feeling his headache growing by the second.

"Then why'd ya ask?" Lizzie asked, looking up and furrowing her brows as she met the angry man's eyes.

"I – just forget it!" Dave growled, scrunching his forehead as he narrowed his eyes at her. She was going to kill him. He knew it. It was just a matter of time. Shaking his head, he knew he couldn't let this little slip of a woman get the upper hand. If he did, he might never get it back and that just wasn't an option. He had a reputation, damn it! And she was singlehandedly destroying it.

"You're making growly bear faces again," Lizzie remarked casually, shifting in her chair as she studied the older man. Honestly, the man needed to learn how to relax.

"I want coffee, Lizzie," Dave said, striving for patience as he kept his words even-toned.

"And people in hell want ice," Lizzie returned tartly, cocking her head as she added, "Doesn't mean the devil's gonna serve it up."

"Damn it, Lizzie!" Dave groaned, feeling the vein in his forehead beginning to throb. Wasn't that some sign from God that this woman would be the death of him?

"Ah, yes. Your default position of swearing at me…I'm sure that'll work for you," Lizzie replied sweetly, dropping another mark on her notepad as she dunned him a few more dollars from that generous payment he had already made.

"God, help me, please!" Dave moaned, dropping his head into his hand, barely resisting the urge to pound his head against the laminated table top.

Looking around the room as silence descended, Lizzie mock whispered, "I'm fairly certain that the Almighty isn't speaking to you today!"

And with that, Dave simply dropped his head to the table in defeat.


	5. Chapter 5

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Five**

Forty-five minutes later, Dave slouched in his chair as he stole another glance at the red headed minx that spent more and more time occupying his thoughts of late. Lizzie had been a quasi member of their team for months now. Months. And he still hadn't managed to unearth any more information on her personal life than he had on the first day she'd taken up residence in his life. Any information he had gained had been compliments of their taciturn boss. And Aaron Hotchner was a closed book. Always had been. All the determined man would say was that his cousin had endured quite a hell of a time of it and she needed a change of scenery.

God knew they'd all supplied that to the southern whirlwind. Her eyes still widened every time she walked out of the Federal building, her surroundings still having the ability to awe the small town girl. That look in her eyes was one of the high points of his days…though he wouldn't admit it under pain of death. Showing that woman any kind of weakness at all would be a mistake of epic proportions and he was well aware of it. He'd only ever admit it to himself – and he hated doing even that much – but Elizibeth very definitely would have the power to cripple him if he gave it to her. Of course, he had no intention of doing that. Talk about mistakes of epic proportions. If she didn't manage to kill him inside of the first week, her protective cousin would.

"Earth to Dave," Hotch called out from the head of the table. "Dave!"

"He's woolgatherin' again, cuz," Lizzie grinned from her position by the door. "Can't you tell? He's got that look daft Uncle Otis gets every time Aunt Mary goes on one of her tirades about Aunt Melly."

"Sorry," Dave muttered, Lizzie's soft southern lilt pulling him back to the table. "What were you saying?"

"Do you have anything to add to the meeting?" Hotch asked, his dark eyes landing on his senior profiler.

"Not at the moment," Dave grunted, fingering his coffee cum tea cup with a glare toward Lizzie.

"Then I guess I'll cede the floor to Lizzie." Turning his head toward his cousin, Hotch nodded at her. "You're up, Liz."

"Thank you very much," Lizzie said with a smile toward her cousin. Then she turned to face the rest of the motley crew that was their team. Slapping a decidedly unhappy frown on her face, she flipped a page on her notepad as she said, "It has come to my attention that this division has fallen behind on one of our commitments."

Cocking her head to the side, Emily asked kindly, "What commitment would that be, Lizzie?" She grinned then as she added, with a definite glance in Morgan's direction, "Other than our paperwork, that is?"

"Hey, what did I do?" Morgan yelped as he felt a pencil flip against his head, Penelope's grin identifying her as assailant. Defensively, he added, catching the wooden cylinder easily, "I'm not the only one who can't seem to remember all the new rules and regulations concerning the nine thousand forms we have to complete around here."

Shaking her head at the group of men and women who would be better suited for a daycare than one of the elite departments of the United States Government, Lizzie said patiently, "Trust me, Derek, getting you people to turn in your paperwork requires more effort than a one legged man at a butt-kickin' contest."

"Wait! Wait!" Penelope yelped excitedly, digging for her favorite pen as she started scribbling on her notepad. "I've got to remember that one! I love it!"

"Don't encourage her," Rossi muttered darkly, throwing a glance at the red head as he reached for the cookie sitting on the napkin beside JJ's cup. "Or we'll be subjected to even more of that so-called wisdom from the South."

"You could do with a bit more wisdom, Agent Rossi," Lizzie replied easily as she snatched the cookie from his fingers, handing it back to JJ as she added, "And let's get back on topic. I received a call from the Mt. Pontier Elementary School principal this week, and apparently this team was paired with the fifth grade class for a mentoring program, and nothing has been done about it yet."

"We've been what?" JJ asked, glancing up at Lizzie as she took an appreciative bite of the peanut butter cookie.

"Paired with the fifth grade class, JJ," Lizzie said, then added, explaining, "This will give the children a positive exposure to government and law enforcement, and possibly encourage them to emulate your example and enter this field when they graduate." She added, her eyes glaring toward the recalcitrant Rossi, "Although I think that some of you would serve better as examples of what NOT to do rather than as positive role models."

"Does that mean I can be eliminated from this little group project of yours?" Dave asked happily.

"First, it's not MY project, Agent Fussy Britches. It's Chief Strauss'. Second, I'm hopin' maybe one of these little munchkins can teach the dog in your manger a thing or two about good manners," Lizzie replied pointedly. "And I'd advise you watch that colorful language of yours over at that school. I did some checking…it IS a Catholic Elementary school and I hear those nuns are real particular about what goes in those little angel's ears. And as I remember it, they're real fond of rulers."

Fighting an inner battle to suppress the grin tickling the corners of his mouth at the sparks flying between his oldest friend and closest relative, Hotch cleared his throat. "You have anything else for us, Lizzie?"

"Actually, yes, I do. Notes for everybody. Let's start with you, Dr. Reid," Lizzie replied, looking narrowly at the group's youngest agent.


	6. Chapter 6

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Six**

"What did I do?" Spencer yelped, his eyes jerking toward the tiny redhead as he nervously twirled a button on his sweater. "I've turned in all my reports and I'll gladly help with the school! I promise!"

"Now don't get your feathers ruffled," Lizzie said, reaching out to pat the young genius on the shoulder as she said, "I just wanted to let you know that you can quit sending nasty emails to the maintenance department accusing them of destroying that book on tape of yours."

"It's not just any recording, Lizzie!" Reid said emphatically, high red spots appearing on his cheeks as he jerked up straight in his chair, his hands gripping the edge of the table. "It was the Fountain Trilogy, and I will not rest until the cretin who so-called accidentally destroyed it with that high-powered vacuum is made to pay!"

"Down, boy, down. You look madder than a wet hen in the middle of a thunderstorm," Lizzie said patiently. "Check your desk when you get back to the bullpen, and I think you'll find a brand new set in your bottom drawer."

The scowl suddenly leaving his face, Reid said, surprised, "You found it? How? It was supposed to be out of production!"

Waving a hand negligently, she said confidently, "It was as scarce as hen's teeth, but I found a seller in Ontario wanting to unload quickly." Leveling a glare at the young agent, she added, "But now you have to mend some fences with maintenance, because they're threatening to withhold replacing the vending machine if you don't."

"What's wrong with the vending machine?" Rossi said suspiciously, his eyes boring into her bright green gaze as he leaned back in his chair.

"Nothing that a few judicious replacements won't take care of," Lizzie replied cryptically, glancing down at her notes as she studiously ignored him. Popping up her head, she turned to the person beside Reid, saying casually, "Emily, when you talk to your mother later today, remember that you sent her a lovely arrangement of calla lilies for her birthday. And don't forget to mention how much you enjoy that red silk blouse she sent you last week. Details count, you know."

"You remembered my mother's birthday?" Emily asked incredulously.

"Of course I did," Lizzie drawled. "I knew you WOULDN'T. 'Specially with that horrible case ya'll just finished. Enough to make even a coon's eyes bleed," she added with a distasteful shiver. "At any rate, you only get one mama, so we daughters have to treat them right. You just remember to call your mama."

"I will, Lizzie," Emily nodded obediently. "Post haste."

Turning to Morgan, Lizzie glared at the attractive bald man.

Seeing Lizzie's disdainful look, Morgan shifted in his seat uncertainly. "I don't think I like that look she's giving me, Mama," Morgan whispered, leaning toward Garcia.

"I wouldn't like it either, Agent Morgan. I'm mad enough to spit nails and chew leather," Lizzie said tartly as Garcia quickly closed her mouth, whatever she had to say long forgotten. "I bet you think you're just the sly fox shut up in the henhouse, don't you?"

Swallowing, Morgan shook his head, wiping a bead of sweat away. "I'm not real sure what that means, Lizzie," he said, shifting backward in his seat as the woman stalked closer to him.

"I think it's southern speak for "Your ass is grass,"" Dave chuckled, enjoyment in his voice.

Pointing her pen at Rossi, Lizzie snapped, "True as that one may be, it's still going on your tab, Agent Rossi." Turning her lethal stare back to Morgan, she tilted her head, saying, "But enough about that. I've gotta snake in the woodshed to deal with."

"I don't know what type of reptiles you've been keeping at your apartment, Lizzie," Morgan began, pasting on a charming smile that never failed to earn him a quick escape from any problem, "but you might want to check the city codes to make sure you're not violating any rules."

"You're one to talk about violations, you two-timin' poor excuse for a wannabe Romeo!" Lizzie shot back, her hand propping on her hips as she stared down at Morgan. Snapping a finger in the air, she added, "Exhibit A. Bernadette in White Collar Crimes. Seems you managed to forget that you had scheduled a date with her on the same night that she saw you out with Caroline from Counterterrorism."

Drawing a strong sip from his mug, Morgan blustered, "Hey, what I do with my private life is my own business, Lizzie! And I don't make any exclusive contracts with any of the honeys."

"First of all, let me just say Ewwwww," Lizzie shuddered, her face drawing into a grimace as she added, "And second, your private life has managed to infringe on my ability to get the transfers settled from department to department. So quit sittin' there like a bump on a log and start mendin' fences now, buster, or I'm gonna let a whole passel of ladies loose on you and your pathetic carcass. And when they're finished with your sorry hide, I'll take over. Don't think I've forgotten about that sorry excuse for a so-called date you set me up with."

"Hey, what was wrong with Chuck?" Morgan asked, eyes jumping guiltily to meet hers. "I thought you two would hit it off easily."

"Oh, we hit it off, alright," Lizzie said with a shake of her red hair, her hand twitching subconsciously as she said, forced cheerfulness in her voice, "He tried to hit on me and I told him to hit the road."

"Pardon?" Dave asked, straightening in his seat as he focused laser-like eyes on Derek Morgan. "What's she talking about, Derek?"

"What I'm talkin' about is that grabby-handed son of a dog that had the unmitigated audacity to ask me if my curtains matched my drapes!" Lizzie rapped out. "Then I realized that hound dog wasn't talking about my home interior!" she hissed, stomping her foot as she jabbed an accusing finger into Derek Morgan's chest.

"Derek Morgan!" Penelope yelled indignantly. "How could you?"

"What was that agent's name again?" Hotch growled.

"Oh, don't worry about it, cuz," Lizzie said with a confident smile at her cousin. "I remembered everything you taught me. I'm fairly certain his tadpoles won't be visitin' any ponds any time soon. His tallywhacker took a brutal blow on the way out my front door."

"The name, Morgan!" Dave ordered sharply.

"Chuck Wells. White Collar Crime," he confessed guiltily.

"You mean the Chuck Wells that's had three sexual harassment grievances filed against him in as many years?" Dave asked, his voice lethal as he stared at the rapidly whitening black man.

"That's the one," Emily nodded, her eyes condemning Morgan.

"You and I will talk later, Morgan," Dave warned quietly, his only saving grace that Lizzie stood safe and whole in front of them all in all her redheaded fury.


	7. Chapter 7

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Seven**

Seeing the angry stares focused on Derek Morgan, Lizzie took pity on the sweating man, patting his arm reassuringly. "I'm sure Derek had no idea what kind of man he was setting me up with, ya'll. And my bad date wasn't the point of my little diatribe anyway," Lizzie said, her lilting voice filling the room.

"I didn't! I really didn't, Lizzie!" Morgan replied gratefully, nodding quickly.

"Then you won't mind making things up to me by straightening out your own rather filled social calendar, will you? Make it right with those girls, Agent Morgan," Lizzie directed firmly, voice brooking no disagreement.

"I will. I promise," Morgan vowed. "Just as soon as they get in on Monday."

Nodding her satisfaction, Lizzie sang out, "Moving on. JJ, I got those reservations for you and your Cajun eye candy at Chez Rouge for Saturday night. I think I promised away my first born child, but you've got eight o'clock reservations."

"Lizzie, you're a miracle worker!!" JJ said with pleased awe, her wide blue eyes glancing up at the young Southerner.

"No, honey, I just have that rare ability to be cuter than a speckled pup in a red wagon when I put my mind to it," Lizzie shrugged, hiding a smile. "Handy little trait I gained dealing with daddy's parishioners back home."

"Well, whatever it is, I appreciate it. Now, if I can find somebody to watch Henry, I'll be in business," JJ said happily. "Any takers?" she asked, looking around the table, expectantly.

"I'll take him," Penelope and Lizzie replied in unison.

"You got him last time, my little Georgia Peach. He's mine Saturday night," Penelope grinned, clapping her hands together.

"Fine," Lizzie laughed. "I cede to the better woman…this time." Turning toward Hotch, Lizzie frowned as she stared down at her ever present notepad, "And you, cuz, are gonna have to talk to those fools down in accounting. They're about as useless as teats on a boar pig! I've been trying for three weeks to get them to reimburse me for forty lousy dollars worth of office supplies and I still haven't received a check."

"I'll talk to them Monday morning, Liz," Hotch nodded, making a note on his pad.

"Much appreciated, Aaron," Lizzie nodded. Taking a deep breath, she looked at Penelope and smiled gently, reaching out to pat her friend's shoulder. "And Penny, I've got one teensy weensy little note for you, honey. Now, I know I can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, but you've simply got to quit terrorizing that new cleaning man we've got. He's already plumb terrified to venture into Agent Rossi's office and now he's scared to death of you, too."

"Lizzie," Pen whined, her lips pouting as she reached for one of her colorful pens, "I've told that guy three times not to clean my computer screens!"

"Honey, he don't speak real good English. Instead of screeching at him, try writing him a note. He reads the language a lot better than he speaks it," Lizzie explained, feeling sorry for the poor janitor. Poor man was a two bricks shy of a load as it was.

"Okay," Penelope grumbled, twirling the fluffy headed pen as she banged it against her notepad.

"All righty then, unless ya'll have somethin' else for me, I've gotta see a man about a cow," Lizzie said brightly, smiling at the assembled group before breezing out the door.

Staring after the gorgeous redhead, Dave shook his head dumbly as he wondered, not for the first time, how that little ray of sunshine and torture had managed to take over their lives so seamlessly. Turning his gaze toward Hotch, Dave shook his head. "Did anybody at this table understand a damn word that woman just said?"

"What do you mean, Dave?" a confused Hotch asked. "She seemed perfectly coherent to me."

"That's because YOU speak her damn language. I, however," Rossi declared, glancing down at his own paper full of tic marks, "noted 3 canine, 1 bovine, 3 poultry, 1 reptile, 1 amphibian, 2 mammalian…and last, but certainly not least 3 porcine references! And you want ME to learn HER language? I call FOUL!"

"Oh!" JJ exclaimed, snapping her fingers as her eyes widened quickly, her hands digging for the large tote bag at her side.

"What is it, Buttercup?" Pen chirped from her seat, eyes snapping sharply toward the mother of her favorite nephew.

"Something I just remembered I had in my purse that Will sent for Rossi," JJ explained cryptically, handing a plastic bag across the table to Dave.

"What's this?" Dave asked, taking the bag from her hand, holding it at a distance as he stared at the generic plastic.

"Just something Will thought you ought to have. He said it would come in handy for you when you're trying to understand Lizzie," JJ shrugged, barely managing to cover her grin, knowing that the taciturn older agent would not appreciate the humor as much as she and Will had.

Opening the bag, Dave pulled out the first item. Staring down at the yellow and black book, Dave shook his head. "Very funny, Jareau," he grumbled, his fingers wrapping around the thick cover.

"Not me!" JJ shook her head, holding her hands up. "Will, remember?"

"What is it?" Morgan asked, intrigued at the sudden gift.

"The Idiots Guide to Speaking Southern," Dave growled, holding up the book like a surprised mother would show off her son's pet spider.

As the rest of the team laughed, Emily choked, nodding toward the still bulging white plastic bag, "What else is in there?"

Reaching inside, Dave rolled his eyes as he pulled out a DVD. "Now this is just wrong, JJ," Dave muttered, staring down at the colorful cover.

"What is it?" Reid asked expectantly, looking up from his notes.

"A movie," Dave said, his voice strangled as he kept his gaze on the graphics.

"Title, Super Agent?" Garcia grinned, her super vigilant eyes already identifying the writing down the edging of the plastic cover.

Not waiting for Dave to answer, JJ giggled, "The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas."

"Remind me to thank your guy, JJ," Dave growled. "Personally."

"And on that note, meeting adjourned!" Hotch ordered, fighting to keep a straight face.


	8. Chapter 8

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Eight**

Glancing down at his watch for the fourth time in the last ten minutes, David Rossi frowned, his lips compressing tightly as he turned back to his laptop. Tapping one index finger against the slick metal keys, he muttered to himself as he managed to eek out one sentence. In two and a half minutes. Damn it, he thought darkly, at this rate, it would take him all morning to just get his notes moved into this freaking email. Damn, but he hated technology.

Snapping his eyes back to his watch, he fought the urge to step out onto the catwalk, knowing that he was only going to be looking for the one woman who wasn't there. For the past hour, he had been telling himself, over and over and very unconvincingly, that he was only looking for her because he needed help with these notes. God knew that he would not willingly subject himself to her presence, and that infernal language that she claimed was English, without a good reason. Of course, it also didn't hurt that looking at her fresh faced beauty had become a balm to her soul. And that when she wasn't bitching at him, he actually found that lilting Southern accent of hers more than a little bewitching.

Jerking his head back as he heard a sudden beep, he glanced suspiciously at his laptop, his eyes narrowing as he wondered if the piece of infernal machinery had chosen this moment to blow up. By the God Lizzie held so holy, if he lost his notes, after the pains he had taken to document them, then he would find a way to make that Southern minx pay for it. But as the obnoxious beeping continued, his ears suddenly realized it was coming from his desk phone. Snatching up the receiver, he made a mental note to file a complaint with Hotch concerning Lizzie's desire to change their ringtones on the office telecom on a regular basis. He was a traditionalist, set in his ways. And why in the hell did that woman deem it necessary to subject them to various Disney theme songs, anyway? Did he look like a damn Elton John fanatic…and what did "The Circle of Life" have to do with him anyway?

Popping the receiver to his ear, he barked, "Rossi. FBI."

The voice on the other end hesitated for a moment, then Rossi heard a deep male voice say, "I'm sorry, I am attempting to contact Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. The switchboard must have transferred me to you by mistake. If you could please…."

"Agent Hotchner is out of the office this morning," Rossi interrupted tersely, then forced himself to maintain a level of civility as he added, "I am SSA David Rossi, Senior Agent in the BAU. What can I do to help you in his absence?"

"Sir, this is Officer Alan Caldwell of the DCPD. I am at the GW ER with a young lady who claims to be a member of the FBI staff," the man said, his voice obviously conveying a lack of belief.

Cocking an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair, Rossi asked, "Sounds to me like you don't seem to think her employment is valid. You gotta name for us or is she one of DC's best crackpots?"

Clearing his voice, Officer Caldwell replied stiffly, "Her driver's license and purported FBI identification name her as Elizabeth Grace Winstead of Piermont, Georgia. And from what I can understand from her, she's…."

The moment he heard her name through the receiver, Rossi felt himself jerk up in his chair, his hand tightening against the phone as he snapped out, voice tight, "Lizzie? You have Lizzie in the ER? What's happened to her?" Feeling his chest tighten, he mentally willed the officer to tell him that this was a mistake.

"You know her?" The officer's simple question expressed surprise and more than a bit of doubt.

"Hell, yes, I know her. Now tell me what's wrong. Is she hurt? How bad?" Rossi demanded, standing up quickly, the chair rolling against the wall as he reached blindly for his jacket, his only thought to find the young spitfire that had managed to capture his interest as no woman before her ever had.

"At approximately 5 AM this morning, Ms. Winstead was the victim of a mugging at the intersection of Good Hope Road and MLK," Officer Caldwell began professionally.

"She was WHAT?" Rossi roared, his anger rising as he realized exactly where she must have been. Then a sudden fear filled him as he asked, rapidly, "How badly was she hurt? Is she still able to speak?" But even as he asked the question, he involuntarily smiled as he heard her strident voice asking in the background, "Is that Aaron? Lemme talk to him. You're gonna scare that poor man stupid talkin' like you are! I'll set this all right as rain in no time!"

"Ma'am…" the officer began, his voice becoming muffled as his hand covered the phone.

"Officer Caldwell! Under no circumstance do you hand her that phone!" Dave demanded, fighting the relieved laughter welling in his chest at the sound of that feminine voice.

"Trust me, Sir," the officer said, his pained voice coming through the phone line, "Ms. Winstead is very capable of speech. Very, very capable, sir. And she is using that voice of hers to demand that Agent Hotchner come to the ER immediately." He added, almost an afterthought, "And sir, her injuries are not life threatening, but the doctor does want to admit her, although she is refusing. She's very good at putting up a resistance to common sense."

"That'd be our girl," Dave conceded, a small smile tugging at his lips as he heard her yell something inaudible. Slipping on his jacket quickly as he reached to open his desk drawer, sliding his weapon into place, Rossi snapped into the receiver, "Do me a favor, Officer, and tell Ms. Winstead that you spoke to the FBI, and that help is on the way. But don't tell her that you spoke to me. "

"Whatever you say, Agent," Caldwell agreed readily. He added, hopefully, "My Chief says I have to stay until one of you all arrive, given that she did manage to shoot her assailant. Can I tell her you'll be arriving soon?"

Smiling grimly at that last piece of news, Rossi replied, "Ten minutes, Officer. Try to keep her from taking aim at anyone else in the meantime."


	9. Chapter 9

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Nine**

Clicking off his phone as he stepped into the bustling inner-city emergency room, Dave felt his jaw tighten as he badgered his way through the various gatekeepers, gaining directions to the location of one Elizabeth Winstead.

But after about ten seconds inside the labyrinth that was the hospital, Dave realized he needn't have worried about directions. The shrill squeal he was currently hearing, along with the other inhabitants within a hundred miles, would have provided him with a perfect path to the woman in question.

Rounding a bustling corner, Rossi stepped firmly into the corner cubicle, his eyes settling on petite redhead that equally infuriated and intrigued him. And she was apparently less than thrilled with her current accommodations.

Her back to him, Lizzie had no idea she was being watched as she pressed a hand to her head again, rubbing the small bruise as she stared up at the uniformed officer beside her bed. Lips pursed, she said firmly, as her voice wavered just a smidge, "Listen, Officer, I told you that I'm perfectly capable of watchin' after myself. My momma didn't raise no fool, you know. Why, if this was back in Piermont, I'd already been hightailin' it down the road, sittin' in Momma's parlor with a glass of iced tea in my hand." Rolling he eyes, ignoring the sudden wave of nausea that hit at the motion, she added, stubbornly, "But instead, here I am, sittin' like a knot on a log for God in his infinite wisdom to…."

"To hopeful knock some sense in that hardhead of yours," Rossi interrupted, stepping around the gurney and into her line of sight.

Eyes narrowing at the dark look blanketing the older man's face, Lizzie pointed at her forehead, "Do you need glasses? In case you hadn't noticed, it's already been tried this morning! What exactly are YOU doin' here, Agent Rossi." Directing her accusing gaze to the officer on the other side of her bed, Lizzie's green eyes sparked as she smacked the younger man's arm and asked, "And, you! I swear my ninety year old granny has better hearing than you do! I told you to call Agent Aaron Hotchner! You got molasses in your britches or something?"

Rolling his eyes at Rossi, the young officer struggled for patience as he ground his teeth. "Ma'am, I've reminded you more than once that striking me is a criminal offense. It's called assault on a police officer and I can arrest you for it."

"Promise?" Rossi asked, an unwilling smile tugging at his lips.

Ignoring Dave, Lizzie huffed, "I told YOU, sir, that I didn't need you to call a blessed soul." Turning back to flash a quick tight smile at Dave, Lizzie declared, "I am finer than frog hair and right as rain. You can just skedaddle back the way you came."

"If you don't mind, Lizzie, I'll hold off on that SKE-daddle, whatever the hell that is, and stick around for a while," Rossi said with a roll of his eyes as he moved to step closer to the young woman. Popping a finger against her chin, he tilted her head gently, his jaw tightening as he saw the dark bruise forming on her forehead. Trying to ignore the protective feeling starting to course through his veins, he said gruffly, "Dammit, woman, what in the hell were you doing out in Anacostia at that time of night?"

"That's exactly what I asked her, Agent Rossi," the officer asked, his gaze flipping back and forth as he added, helpfully, "She informed me that she had to deliver food to the church, and…."

"If y'all are gonna talk about me like I'm a fly on the wall, at least get your stories straight," Lizzie muttered. Swatting at Rossi's hand as she drew herself up to her full height, which was not nearly as much as she wished it was, Lizzie dropped a hand to the bed to steady herself as she said, pertly, "I was not going to the church, I was going to the homeless shelter. It's my morning to deliver muffins to the unfortunate, God bless their little hearts, and I was running late. So I took a shortcut, which turned out to be crookeder than a dog's hind leg." Glaring up at Rossi, she shook her head, immediately regretting the action, as she said, "This city must've been laid out by a Yankee drunk on mountain dew, what with all those confusing streets and crisscrosses. Why can't you people just have a simple Main Street and be done with it?"

"Perhaps because this ain't Mayberry and I'm not Sheriff Andy," Rossi said drily, narrowing his eyes as he asked, gruffly, "But if I was, I'd have to ask exactly how you managed to shoot your assailant and not be any more injured than you are, Lizzie."

"Dumb luck, sir," the young officer said, shaking his head as he eyed Lizzie curiously.

"I'll have you know that I'm a crack shot, Officer," Lizzie retorted indignantly.

"Ma'am," the young man choked, "You shot him-,"

"Exactly where I intended to put my bullet," Lizzie retorted crossly. "That man was nuttier than a squirrel turd."

"Enough with the animal euphemisms, Lizzie!" Dave muttered, rubbing a hand down his face as he felt the stirrings of a headache behind his eyes. "Tell me what happened, woman!"

"Is she always like this?" Officer Caldwell asked incredulously.

"What exactly does that mean? Didn't ya'lls mamas ever teach ya'll that it was easier to catch a fly with honey than it is with vinegar?" Lizzie muttered.

"What does that even mean?" Officer Caldwell asked, his voice pleading for an explanation. "I'm begging you, ma'am, just speak plainly."

"Don't bother, kid. This is her talking plainly. I've been trying for months to learn her language. There's a book and everything. But it's impossible," Rossi replied sadly. Looking at Lizzie, Dave asked bluntly, "Where the hell did you shoot him, Lizzie? And how did you come by the shiner you've got?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Ten**

"She shot him in the ass, Agent Rossi," the cop informed him with a chuckle.

"Which was just exactly where I aimed to put my bullet. I knew it wouldn't be fatal there," Lizzie said pertly, finally giving in to her need to sit and easing on the bed carefully. Lord have mercy, who knew all the colors could be that pretty?

Watching as her pupils suddenly dilated, Rossi found himself wrapping an arm around her petite frame as he asked sharply, "Lizzie? You still with me, honey?"

"Uh huh," she said weakly, swatting ineffectually at his hands as she tried to remember how to sit up straight. Smiling grimly, she added, "Just peachy, Agent Rossi. Just need to give my legs a rest for a moment. Since I'm paying for this bed, thought I'd use it for a sec."

"Should I get the doctor, sir?" Officer Caldwell asked, concerned as he watched the petite redhead wince again.

"Wouldn't be a bad idea, Officer," Rossi said, never taking his eyes off of the young woman. "The sooner the better."

Hearing the young policeman leaving the room, Rossi swept a hand down Lizzie's arm as he asked, softly, "How you doing, really?"

"Oh, if I was having any more fun, there'd have to be two of me to enjoy it all," she replied, shifting slightly on the thin mattress. Feeling his hand press against her back, she muttered with a decidedly Lizzie glare, "But if you don't quit making this bed move, I'm gonna be forced to kill you, hide your body, and tell God you died of natural causes."

"Lizzie, I'm not moving anything," Dave murmured, frowning in concern as he brushed a few stray red lock of her hair behind her ear. Leaning closer, he winced as he got a good look at the two bruises forming on her heart shaped face. One on her forehead and another around her eye. "Damn it, woman, we're gonna have to put a leash on you to keep you out of trouble."

"Never work," Lizzie laughed lightly. "I'd just slip your little ole chain. I'm wily like that," she winked.

"Honey, you haven't seen wily yet," Dave warned, easing her back against the thin pillow on top of the gurney. "Damn it, Lizzie, we turn our backs on you for a second, and look at the mess you get yourself into. You need a keeper," he muttered, smoothing a hand down her cheek as her eyes fluttered shut for a moment.

"Do not," she replied, her eyes still closed. " 'Sides, I gave that froggy fella what he deserved…a butt filled with lead."

"What you deserve is to be turned across my knee for pulling such a stupid stunt," Dave growled.

Opening her eyes, Lizzie forced herself up on her elbows as she stared hard at David Rossi's worried face.

"Lizzie, what the hell are you looking for?" Dave asked, furrowing his brows as he met her hard gaze.

"Tryin' to figure something out," she muttered.

"What?" Dave asked impatiently, trying to gently coax her to her back again as he wrapped his hands gently around her arms.

"Which one of you is real…don't wanna waste my energy hittin' your double," she groused.

"You're seeing double?" Dave worried aloud.

"Hope so," Lizzie sighed. "Surely God ain't cruel enough to send me two of you! I AM a good Christian, after all!"

"I need a twin, just to keep track of you," Rossi grumbled good naturedly, forcing himself to smile down at her as he kept his hands in place, not willing to let her loose and risk having her try to escape.

But his hands suddenly flew out of place as her smaller but nimbler hands started patting his chest, her eyes widening as she muttered, "Where is it, Dave? I know you always carry it, and I need it now!"

Wondering for a split second if she had actually lost what little sense she had remaining, he asked, carefully, grabbing her questing hands, "Honey, I don't know what you think you're looking for, but….."

Struggling to sit up as she fought the wave of nausea that rolled in her stomach, Lizzie met his eyes as she demanded, "Your phone! I need your phone!"

Forcing a note of patience, which he definitely no longer felt, into his voice, Rossi said calmly, "Whoever it is that you need to call, I'll be glad to take care of that for you, Lizzie. I don't think you're in any shape to be making phone calls right now, do you?"

"If you think I'm going to let you call my sainted momma, then you ain't got the sense that God gave a billygoat," she said, jerking her hands away as she once again went on her scavenger hunt for his elusive phone.

"You don't want to wait to call your parents after we've seen the doctor and have more information?" Rossi asked, slipping a hand into his inside pocket and pulling out his small phone, only to have it snatched out of his hand in seconds.

"Have you taken leave of what sense I know the good Lord gave you?" Lizzie asked, trying to focus her wavering gaze on the small colorful screen, her fingers not quite making contact with the correct buttons. Frazzled, she added, moaning, "Daddy's not going to be happy when he finds out about this."

"Lizzie, I'm sure your father will be grateful that you weren't hurt any more than you were," Rossi assured her, leaning against the side of the gurney as he gently pulled the phone from her hands.

"Gimmee that back, you Indian giver," she ordered, trying to snatch the small phone out of his hands. "We've got rules in good southern families, Agent Rossi. And I've already broken two of them!"

"This, I've gotta hear," Dave said, shaking his head at her.


	11. Chapter 11

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Eleven**

"Rule one," she said, fighting to get her tiny hands around the black device in his hand, "is that you call your daddy as soon as you fish your gun outta your purse!"

"What's the other one you broke?" Dave chuckled, easily evading Lizzie's hands as he held the phone out of reach.

"If you put your finger on the trigger, empty the clip," Lizzie retorted. "But I figured one bullet full of lead was enough for one man's ass."

"How very Christian of you," Dave said, fighting to keep a straight face.

"I thought so," Lizzie nodded seriously. "But, unfortunately, daddy won't. He always said I couldn't hit the broadside of a barn."

"Guess you proved him wrong," Dave snorted.

"I aimed for his butt on purpose. For heaven's sake, I was out doing the Lord's work," Lizzie replied indignantly.

"Your desire to get into heaven is gonna send me straight to hell, Lizzie," Dave sighed tiredly.

"Oh, I don't think you need my help to make it to that destination at all, Agent Rossi," Lizzie said pertly. "You already had your reservation with Satan long before I stumbled into your unfortunate life," she added with a dreamy smile. What in the Sam Hill had been in that shot those bloodsuckers had delivered earlier?

Peering more closely into Lizzie's face, Dave sighed. "Babe, you're stoned."

"Am not! I'm sober as a judge," Lizzie argued half-heartedly as her nose began to tingle.

"I WISH just once you'd use that brain of yours for something other than a space holder," Dave groaned.

"If wishes were horses, beggars would ride," Lizzie giggled, staring up at him.

"Now you're just doing it on purpose," Dave accused, wriggling a finger in her face.

Biting the tip of his finger sharply, Lizzie grinned loopily around the digit.

Trying desperately to ignore the pang of sharp arousal her mouth wrapped around his finger invoked, Dave growled, "Lizzie, you're playing with fire here."

Releasing his finger from her mouth, Lizzie smiled. "Well, sir, if you wave a bone in front of a dog's face, don't be surprised when she bites you," Lizzie informed him primly.

Not quite willing to remove his touch from her delicate skin, Rossi skimmed his injured finger against her cheek as he muttered, "Dammit, Lizzie, how in the world do you get yourself into these situations? I swear to God, you need a full time keeper."

Rolling her eyes, she tried to sit up, only to find that movement was still not in her best interests. Muttering as she dropped back against the stiff hospital pillow, she said, "That's five dollars, Agent Rossi, and don't think I'm going to forget this later. I still remember that you owe the kitty from earlier this week."

"You can remember inane trivia like that, but you seem to have a memory lapse when it comes to taking care of yourself, huh?" Rossi asked, dropping his hands to settling against her delicate shoulders.

"I think I did a perfectly fine job of protecting myself this morning, thank you very much," she said confidently, meeting his eyes as she added, "I shot the fool, didn't I? Seems to me that it was that poor soul that was unable to take care of his own self, if I do say so myself."

"You could have been killed, damn it!" Dave exploded. "Does that even penetrate that daft little mind of yours?"

"Would you quit screechin' like a cat in heat," Lizzie winced, grabbing her head as another wave of nausea rolled over her. "Oh, sweet Lord," she gasped, pressing her fingers to her mouth. "Let me up, Agent Rossi!" she ordered, slapping at his shoulders as he tried to press her backward again. "I'm gonna be sick."

Quickly grabbing the bedpan from the table beside the gurney, Dave rubbed her back as she wretched weakly into the basin, flopping against the pillows as she fell back. "Great," she moaned. "Now, you've witnessed me tossin' my cookies!"

Pouring her a glass of water from the pink pitcher on the table, Dave helped the young woman sit up and frowned at her ghostly pallor. Lifting the yellow cup to her lips, he urged, "Drink this, babe. Rinse your mouth out." As she followed his directions he glanced over his shoulder, growling, "Where the hell is that damn cop with the doctor?"

"Quit swearin'," Lizzie ordered faintly, reaching out her hand involuntarily to grasp his arm as she fought to stay upright.

"Honey, lie back down," Dave said softly, trying to ease her gently back to the pillows. "I'll go find that idiot doctor myself."

"No! I need your phone. I've gotta call Mama and Daddy!" Lizzie pleaded, eyes rounded as she stared up at Dave's face. "Unless you wanna explain to my Daddy why nobody called him before now!"

"Your father will understand, Lizzie, and I'm certain that he will be far more concerned that you're receiving the medical care that you need," Rossi said firmly, sliding a gentle hand against her pallid cheek. Glancing over his shoulder, he growled, "And that medical care better be forthcoming immediately or I'm going to let a certain officer and doctor have a piece of my mind."

Leaning back against the pillow unhappily, Lizzie muttered as she tried to get the world to quit spinning again, "You need to hold onto what's left of your brain, Agent Rossi. I hear that those brain cells start to deteriorate in old age."

"Cute, Lizzie, cute," Rossi growled, refusing to allow himself to let that statement affect him, their age differences glaringly obvious to him at that exact moment.

But he was saved from any further comments as the sound of footsteps slid into their cubicle. Glancing sharply at the harried uniformed officer, he ground out, "Took you long enough, Officer. I was beginning to think you had been lost in the line of duty."


	12. Chapter 12

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Twelve**

"Lay off the poor boy, Agent Rossi," Lizzie said with a wince, pushing up on her elbow as she pointed at the scrub-clad man now standing next to her bed. "He's the one I want, anyway." Looking determinedly at the doctor, she said, "He's the one that's got it in his craw that he's not letting me out of this place. So tell him, Rossi. Tell him that I'm perfectly fine and can leave now."

"I assure you, Ms. Winstead, you're not fine," the Doctor stated firmly, stepping beside the bed to reach for Lizzie's wrist, taking her pulse as he spoke. "According to your cat scans, you are a very lucky girl. There was no swelling in your brain and-"

"You mean she's got a brain?" Dave asked sarcastically, staring down at Lizzie. "I'm gonna need to see some evidence to prove that, Doc."

"Now listen here, you sorry son of a biscuit eater," Lizzie retorted, her eyes narrowing as she turned her head to look at the man currently standing between her and freedom, "I don't know who asked you to join this party, but you can just keep your opinions to yourself."

Clearing his throat, the Doctor looked between his patient and her not-so- thrilled guardian. "As I was saying, you're lucky, Ms. Winstead…but not fine. Your test results indicate you've got a mid-grade concussion." Adding with a chiding voice, "That's what happens when you run down the alley after a mugger and trip over your own two feet."

"You did what?!" Rossi exploded, his loud voice causing Lizzie to grimace and grab her head again. "Is he on the level?" Dave asked Officer Caldwell. "She ran AFTER the mugger to shoot him in the ass!"

"Well I told him to quit runnin' like a scared bunny and take it like a man!" Lizzie said plaintively. "He had my granny's locket!" Staring up at a gaping Rossi, Lizzie ordered crossly, "Would you quit gawking at me like a fish outta water! I did what I had to do!"

"You," Rossi said, pointing accusingly down at her nose, "NO MORE WORDS!"

"Put that thing near me again, Rossi, and you'll draw back a nub," Lizzie threatened as she pushed up again, struggling against the unforgiving mattress as she looked around the room. "And would you three please quit lookin' at me like I'm something that the cat drug in?"

"You'll have to forgive us, Annie Oakley," Rossi snorted, slipping his hand under her elbow as he steadied her, his fingers clamping around her arm as he added, "It's not every day that I see a walking, talking, and breathing IDIOT! What in the hell were you thinking? You have a damn death wish, don't you? Or are you trying to kill me?"

"That's ten dollars, Agent Rossi," Lizzie mumbled smartly, closing her eyes as his deep voice rumbled inside her head. Choosing to ignore him as he muttered something in her direction, she turned her attention back to the doctor as she said, hopefully convincingly, "Now that cat thingy you were talking about. If there's nothing wrong with my brain," she stressed, throwing a dark look toward Rossi, "Then there's no reason why I can't skedaddle right on out of here, right?"

The doctor cleared his throat as he stuffed his stethoscope in his pocket, opening his mouth to speak, only to find himself interrupted.

"Wrong," Rossi snapped out harshly before the doctor could answer. Turning to look threateningly at the medic, he said, voice heavy, "Tell her she's keeping her ass planted exactly where it is, if for no other reason than she's a certifiable menace to herself and society at large."

"Actually, sir…." The doctor began, his eyes shifting from his patient to the federal agent, only to find himself interrupted again.

Swatting ineffectually at Rossi's arm, Lizzie snapped her green-eyed glare toward the doctor as she said, sweetly, "Mama always said that you could tell a man's intelligence by his eyes, and you have the prettiest blue eyes I think I've ever seen. " Slapping on her best smile, the one that her best friend Annabelle had always said was one of her best assets, Lizzie leaned forward slightly as she whispered, admiringly, "I bet a man like you has to beat the girls off with a stick, don't you?"

"Well…," the doctor faltered, blushing.

"Oh for the love of God," Dave muttered. "You implied that I was old, Lizzie. This guy," he said, jerking his head toward the white haired doctor, "-is geriatric!"

"Beauty's in the eye of the beholder," Lizzie hissed. "And right now," she said, her voice pitched low, "I'm thinkin' bout hittin' you with an ugly stick!"

"Uhmm," Officer Caldwell said, clearing his throat as three sets of eyes flew toward him, "I don't mean to interrupt, but my Chief said I couldn't leave Ms. Winstead unsupervised and that I needed to wait here with her until someone arrived. And since you're here, Agent Rossi, and they said that my prisoner is ready for transport out at the desk when I went out to find the doctor, I thought maybe…"

"You're relieved, Kid," Dave said, cutting off the rambling police officer. With an irritated glance at Lizzie, he added, "I'm impressed you could hang in here as long as you did. If I'd gotten stuck with this kind of duty the first day I met her, I'd have run screaming for the hills – and I deal with the psychotic mind for a living."

Fighting the urge to laugh as the red headed minx in the bed lifted a hand to pinch the older man's arm , hard, Officer Caldwell nodded. "Then I'll just leave this," he said, fishing the plastic evidence bag containing Lizzie's gun from his jacket pocket, "with you."

"My gun!" Lizzie said excitedly, reaching for the bag. "There it is!"

Jerking the bag out of her reach, Officer Caldwell shook his head quickly. "Nuh uh, Ms. Winstead! My chief expressly told me that I was never to release this weapon into your hand."

"For the tenth time, I wasn't tryin' to shoot ya'll. I was just tryin' to flag ya'll down!" Lizzie huffed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Thirteen**

"Ma'am, you aimed a loaded weapon at six armed officers of the law. And you don't have a permit to carry concealed in the District of Columbia, Virginia, Maryland, or any other surrounding state. You're lucky we're not hauling YOU off to the jail," said the exasperated officer, pressing a finger to his forehead. Looking pleadingly at Rossi, the younger man begged, "Could YOU explain it to her? I've tried three times, sir."

Accepting the small weapon and clip from the young officer, Rossi slipped them into his pocket as he replied, sighing, "Trust me, son, there's no explaining reason to this woman. She has managed to rewrite the English language in addition to rewriting the laws of the United States to suit her every whim, apparently."

"Hey!" Lizzie yelled indignantly at his words, pulling her hand away from the doctor who was once again attempting to take her pulse. Glaring at Rossi as she pointed, she said, "I'll have you know that I carried that gun for years down in Piermont with the Sheriff's knowledge, thank you very much. And he was more than pleased with my performance on my qualifyin' tests, which is more than I can say for this Godforsaken town."

Rolling his eyes at the tiny fireball, Rossi snorted, "Again, woman, this ain't Podunk…."

"Piermont, you babbling oaf, Piermont," Lizzie snapped out, jerking her head away as the doctor attempted to peer into her eyes with his tiny flashlight.

"Excuse me, Peeeer-mont," Rossi drawled sarcastically, then added, "And the powers that be in the District do not recognize whatever cracker jack box permit you might have."

"If Aaron was here, he would understand," Lizzie said dismissively, waving her hand as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, banging the doctor in the thigh in the process. "Oops. Sorry 'bout that, but you really shouldn't be standing there, you know."

Dropping a heavy hand to her shoulder, the doctor said firmly, "Really, miss, I need to complete this exam. I need to ensure that you're not suffering any adverse side effects from your head injury, and I can't do that if you continue to thrash around like a fish out of water."

"Oh, God…not you, too," Dave groaned, barely resisting the urge to drop his head into his hands. "Every time people get near this woman, animal euphemisms start flying around. Speak English, people," Dave demanded, growing exasperated.

"Listen, Doctor, if you don't move, quick like a bunny, the floods are gonna come and the rain's gonna land all over your nice shoes," Lizzie warned darkly, her eyes widening with each word. "I've gotta see a man about a horse!" she added, slapping the elderly man's arm as she grabbed Dave's hand to steady herself as she stood.

"Oh, my!" Officer Caldwell gasped as Lizzie's hospital gown gaped open suddenly, revealing her very attractive backside in all its glory. Tilting his head, his eyes narrowed with interest as Lizzie leaned against Dave, waiting for her dizziness to ebb, he murmured again, "My, my, MY!"

Recognizing lust when he saw it, Dave frowned, glancing down Lizzie's back to see what had drawn the young man's attention. Jerking her gown closed as his heated eyes traveled over her flesh, he raised a furious gaze to the younger man. "You are so lucky she need me to hold her up more than I need to hit you! Get the hell out of here!"

Gulping audibly at the obvious threat to his immediate health and safety, the young officer nodded rapidly as he glanced toward the door. "I'll, I'll…I'll just be going now." Popping his hat on his head, he touched the brim as he said, deferentially, "Ma'am. Please let me know if the DCPD can ever be of any assistance to you in the fu…"

"Son, get your ass out that door before I kick it out personally," Rossi said sharply, his rage coloring every word. Hearing the scurrying footsteps slapping against the industrial linoleum, Rossi turned his attention back to the woman in his arms, easing her back against the gurney as he said, worriedly, "Dammit, woman, what in the hell did you think you were doing? You can't even stand up let alone walk, and you were trying to…"

"Get to the little girl's room, you overbearing oaf," Lizzie muttered, slamming a hand against his chest as she looked pleadingly toward the doctor. "Tell him, Doctor. Tell him that the human bladder is only meant to stretch so far before…."

"I'll get a nurse to help immediately, Ms. Winstead," the doctor said, pressing the red button on the wall.

"I can't wait for somebody to come scurrying like mice," Lizzie yelped as she took a step toward the door, dragging Rossi along with her. She muttered under her breath, "Men! Take a simple thing like peeing and turn it into an act of Congress!"

Edging Lizzie slowly toward the bathroom door, Dave frowned as he felt her weave against him, even as she said, "You wanna pick up the pace, slow poke! I'd like to arrive at my destination BEFORE I start gettin' grey hair!"

"Honey, I'm not the one holding up progress here," Dave muttered, tightening his grip around her waist as they reached the bathroom door.

"Okay, cowboy, this is where you get off the horse," Lizzie murmured appreciatively patting his chest as she reached out a hand to steady herself against the bathroom door. "I'll take it from here," she said, smiling beatifically up at him before closing the door behind her.

Damn, he thought unexpectedly, he could get lost in that smile. But as soon as the wooden door closed in his face, Dave put that thought out of his mind and turned to glare at the doctor. "Okay, Doc, tell me how she really is."

"Are you family, sir?" the Doctor frowned, glancing up from the chart he was studiously making notes in.

"Close enough," Dave replied quickly, one eyebrow cocked. "I'm the guy that's gonna take her off your hands, at any rate." The sound of crashing metal suddenly sounded around them, and he jerked quickly, looking over his shoulder, fully expecting the little minx to be making a break for the door. But the noise was soon explained, nurses rushing toward another bay as a doctor barked loud orders.

His eyebrows bunching together, the older physician said slowly, the sound not having swayed him at all, "It would be in Ms. Winstead's best interest to remain here in the hospital for further observation. A head injury of her type can…."

"Doc, trust me, I'm the first to agree with you and see the sense behind your suggestion, but in case you haven't realized it yet, that woman," Rossi said, gesturing over his shoulder, "has made up her mind that she's leaving. And when that happens, not even God himself can stop her. So, as long as it's not a matter of life or death, then tell me what I need to know to keep her from accidentally maiming herself or others in the process."


	14. Chapter 14

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Fourteen**

Cocking his head for a moment as he measured that statement, the doctor nodded once and said, relieved, "She's yours then. Just watch her closely for the next 48 hours to ensure that she doesn't exhibit any adverse side effects from the concussion."

"Ya wanna elaborate there, Doc?" Rossi said with a frown, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that the wooden door didn't open unexpectedly. He would prefer to have this conversation with the Southern belle objecting and providing commentary that would only serve to distract him.

Leaning against the gurney, the doctor ticked off his fingers as he said, quickly, "First, don't leave her alone. She needs constant supervision in case she experiences any dizziness, excessive nausea, or unexplained fatigue. Next, make sure that she takes her pain blockers, which means she'll need to eat. From what she told my nurses earlier, she hadn't had breakfast, so the meds we gave her hit an empty stomach…."

"Which is never a good idea," Rossi completed with a frown, memories of his own experiences with Percocet from aeons ago coming back to the surface. Hearing the sound of running water filter through the closed door, he asked, quickly, "Anything else?"

Grabbing the metal chart, the doctor nodded as he tucked it under his elbow. "Yeah. Good luck. Ms. Winstead apparently has quite the temper."

"That's the understatement of the year, doc," Rossi muttered, rolling his eyes as he stuffed a hand into his pocket.

Stepping toward the door, the scrub-clad doctor said as he left, "I'll get her dismissal paperwork started and have one last shot administered to her for pain."

Walking out of the small bathroom a second later, Lizzie glanced around the small hospital room. "Where'd everybody go?" she asked, her voice weak as she weaved unsteadily on her feet, a hand reaching blindly for the nearest solid object.

Grabbing her arm quickly before she could fall, Dave held his breath as her small frame seemed to collapse against his. Trying to ignore how good her soft body felt against his, and failing, Dave shook his head. "Looks like you scared them all off, Babe. You're stuck with me now."

"Great idea," Lizzie groaned, her fingers clenching his jacket as she tried to regain her balance, but finding the effort harder than she expected. Now, this was just not gonna work! "''Specially since you and I get along like two peas in a pod," she muttered sarcastically.

Helping her sit back down on the bad, her slight body barely even making a dent on the thin mattress, Dave asked, cajoling, "Come on, now, I'm not that bad, am I?"

"Not when you're sleepin'," Lizzie agreed darkly, looking up at him, which only caused the bright lights to smash against her eyes. Raising a hand to her head, she winced. Biting her lip, she whispered, "My head really hurts."

Gently brushing a fingertip against the lump forming against her skull, Dave nodded, smiling. "I'd imagine it does, honey. The doctor said he's gonna bring you in another shot for pain."

"Then why are you smilin' like a billygoat standin' in a briarpatch?" Lizzie asked petulantly, her shoulders slumping as she dropped her eyes, avoiding those glaring bulbs.

"I have absolutely no idea what you just said," Dave smiled again, rubbing her cheek gently as he eased her back against the pillow on the gurney, "but I think I've got good news for you. After your shot, your doctor has agreed to spring you from this joint with the proviso that I don't leave you alone for the next forty-eight hours," Dave informed her, carefully watching for the reaction he had no doubt was coming.

Eyes widening as she comprehended his words, Lizzie pushed up off the gurney, her head shaking even as she felt the maracas bouncing inside her skull, her words tumbling out, "Have you taken leave of what sense the good Lord gave you? I can't stay with you! If my sainted Daddy had any idea that you had just suggested such a thing, why, he'd …"

"He'd be glad that you had someone looking out for you right now, Lizzie," Rossi said calmly, pushing her shoulders back not so gently as he noticed a flash of pain in her eyes. Shaking his head, he was seriously beginning to wonder if this woman was capable of coherent thought.

Swatting at his hands, she peered as sharply as she could into his eyes as she asked, suspiciously, "Are you three sheets to the wind? Have you been drinking already, Rossi?"

"I'm stone cold sober, Lizzie," Rossi assured her drily, then added under his breath, "Although the thoughts of liquor are looking better and better right now." Seeing her lips purse in disagreement, he continued quickly, "The doctor's bringing you a pain shot in just a minute, Lizzie, but if you want him to let you out of here, then you have to agree to this. Otherwise, you're going to be a guest of this fine establishment." Pausing, he added, emphasizing ever word, "For as long as they say."

Pushing up on her elbow, she moaned, "There's got to be another option, Agent Rossi. Call Cousin Aaron. I can stay with him, and that won't send my Daddy to an early grave."

"Aaron's in the field on that custodial interview through Saturday night, Lizzie," Rossi replied, shifting her pillow and easing her back down against the bed, wondering idly if this bed came with straps. He wasn't above tying her down if it meant keeping her safe and secure in one place.

"Then Penelope," she said quickly, her eyes widening as she said, convincingly, "She won't mind. We've spent nights on each other's couches many times on Friday movie nights. She's a big fan of those geeky horror movies, you know, but of course, I think they're about as entertainin' as…"

"I heard her make plans with Reid to attend some sort of techno-geek thingamabog," Rossi recalled quickly, interrupting what he just knew was going to be a dissertation complete with various animal analogies and references to at least four family members.

Narrowing her eyes, which took more effort than she liked, Lizzie said warily, "You seem awfully intent on gettin' me to your place, Agent Rossi. My Daddy will skin your hide and leave you squealin' like a stuck hog when he finds out about this."

"I'm intent on getting you somewhere all right," Dave muttered, tightening his grip on her shoulder as he stopped her from moving again. "You're a danger to yourself and others when nobody's watching you. The world will thank me."

"I was doing the Lord's work, Agent Rossi," Lizzie replied piously, her pale face staring up at him with determination. "And just as soon as I'm back on my feet, I intend to keep right on doin' it."

"Not in Anacostia, you aren't," Dave snapped, his voice deepening. "Lizzie, do you realize how lucky you are that all you got was a couple bumps on that hard head of yours? That area is filled with murderers, rapists and thieves! And it was still dark, damn it! Don't you have any sense?"

"I've got the good sense to know that those poor souls need help," Lizzie retorted.

"May I take a moment to remind you that you put a bullet hole in one of those so-called poor souls?" Dave asked darkly, the weight of her gun pressing against his side, a present reminder of exactly how close to danger she had been.

"Well…he was runnin'," Lizzie sighed, rubbing her head again, the thoughts of the entire escapade increasing the pressure inside her banged-up skull. "Now will you please quit that infernal noisemakin'? You've chewed my ear long enough."

"I haven't begun to chew anything yet," Dave snorted. "Believe me, you'll know when I do."

"Lucky me," Lizzie said darkly, then looked up sharply as footsteps approached her bed. Recognizing a nurse from earlier, she said, relieved, "Oh, look, the Calvary's arrived."

Smiling reassuringly as she readied a syringe, the older woman asked solicitously, "How are you feeling, Ms. Winstead? Still experiencing pain from that headache?"

"Definitely, and the pain has morphed into a real, living person," Lizzie replied, throwing a nasty look in Rossi's direction as she added, "And no matter how hard I try, he won't go away. You think you could do me a teensy favor and maybe give HIM that shot? He could use some mellowing, and it would help MY headache tremendously."

Glancing over at Rossi, the nurse asked, surprised, "I didn't realize your father had arrived. I hope you know that we're taking good care of your daughter, Mr. Winstead."

"Oh, no, he's nothing at all like my daddy ---" Lizzie began, her eyes widening almost comically as she pushed herself up from the gurney, swatting at his oppressive hand.

"Trust me, Grandma, if I were her father, I'd already turned her over my knee," Rossi snorted, dropping a dark look toward the struggling woman as he pressed her back down. "Would you please sit still and let the woman give you medicine that you obviously still need, you little troublemaker?"

"Actually, sir, Ms. Winstead might prefer for you to leave the room if you're not a relative," the nurse said slowly, looking at Lizzie for confirmation as she said, delicately, "This shot needs to be injected into a muscle, dear, and I'm not sure that you'd want your gentleman caller to see…."

Catching the woman's obvious intentions, Rossi said quickly, "I'll step into the hallway." Turning his eyes toward Lizzie, he said sharply, "You. Stay put. Don't move until I get back, do you hear me?"

Waving a hand over her body, Lizzie said with a grimace, "Not exactly out running any races right now, Rossi. I'll be a perfect little angel while you're gone."

"And it's snowing in hell right now, too, Lizzie," Rossi threw over his shoulder as he slammed open the door to the hallway.

"That's another five dollars, Agent Rossi, and don't think I won't be collectin' in a few hours!" Lizzie's voice rang in his ears as he let the door slap closed behind him, causing a smile to tug involuntarily at the corners of his lips.

Shaking his head as he leaned against the sterile tile wall, David Rossi couldn't help but wonder for a moment what the coming hours would hold for both of them. If the last few months had been any indication, he had a distinct feeling that he just might be bringing a fully lit firecracker into his home.

And, he reminded himself with a sigh, this particular rocket had a tendency to explode just when he least expected it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Fifteen**

Staring through the windshield of his SUV at the large house in front of her, her hand cupped protectively over her eyes to block out the sun, Lizzie said adamantly, albeit a bit woozily, "I told you that I couldn't do this! I can't be here, Agent Rossi, no matter what you say! Why, my great granny'd turn over in her grave and slap her neighbor if'n she knew I was here unchaperoned!"

"Yes, Lizzie, I heard your objections," Rossi said as patiently as possible, pressing a hand to his forehead as he slammed the truck into park, killing the engine. "All forty-nine of them."

Dropping her head back against the leather seat, she moaned, "Well, then, do you have motor oil for earwax? The good Lord gave you two ears and one mouth for a reason, Rossi, so maybe you could use those things on the side of your head for something more than …"

Reaching across the seat, Rossi slapped his hand gently against her lips as he said, sternly, "Would you just shut up? You've yammered the whole way from the hospital. I thought those damned drugs were supposed to knock you out, not make you a raving lunatic."

Her eyes widening comically, the petite redhead snapped her teeth sharply against his finger, smiling grimly as he jerked his hand away, a violent curse ringing against her ears.

"God dammit, woman, what the fuck….." he began, grabbing his fingers with the other hand as he stared down at the definite tooth marks on his fingertips.

"You're up to twenty dollars in thirty seconds, Agent Rossi," Lizzie said primly, blinking her eyes rapidly as she tried to focus on him. She dearly hoped that she wasn't seeing two of him. God wouldn't be that cruel to her, would He? Seeing him open his mouth, she added, warning darkly, "Want to try for more?"

"What I want, you infernal Southern tornado," Rossi said with a grimace, grabbing his keys as he opened his door, "Is to lock you in a dungeon before you manage to maim me any more than you already have. Stepping quickly to her door, he yanked it open, only to find her sitting primly in the seat, seatbelt tightly in place, hands folded in her lap as she refused to meet his eyes.

"Lizzie," he said, forcing a patient tone into his definitely impatient voice, his eyes catching the tremors in her hands, "You can't sit in the truck all day. Sooner or later, those pills are gonna kick in full force, and I'd prefer you were flat on your back when that happened."

"Don't yell at me, you overgrown oaf," Lizzie muttered, pressing her shaking hand against her forehead again, the kaleidoscope of stars making another sudden appearance.

"I'm not yelling," Rossi said, narrowing his eyes as he reached out and grabbed her chin, peering into her eyes quickly. Frowning as he noticed how dilated her pupils were, he asked, sharply, "Are you feeling worse? Has your headache increased?"

"No, I'm not feeling worse. I still feel just as low a worm in a wagon rut, thank you very much," Lizzie snapped out, ineffectively swatting at his hand as she tried to turn away from his touch. "And don't think you're going to distract me from this current situation. And if you think that I believe you got Cousin Aaron's permission to bring me here, David Rossi, then you don't have the good sense that God gave a chigger."

"Oh, good," Rossi sighed, reaching over her to unbuckle her seatbelt, "I wondered when insects were going to start making an appearance in your pithy little sayings. I told you that I left a message on Hotch's voicemail. Now would you please cooperate and quit being such a pain in my ass?"

Lizzie went uncharacteristically silent as his goad penetrated the fog her mind had become and she felt her eyes fill with tears. Dang it! Now she was lettin' this overgrown bear of a man bring her to tears. She really was battin' a thousand today in the emotion department, and she hated it.

"Lizzie?" Dave frowned down at her as he caught the glimmer of tears in her eyes, surprised at the sudden change of emotions.

"You really don't like me at all, do you?" Lizzie whispered, her voice shaky as the sun shone above them, her fingers shaking as she picked idly at a button on her shirt.

"What?" Dave asked softly as he wrapped his fingers more tightly around her forearms, wondering how in the world she had come to such a conclusion. Hell, he was playing nursemaid to her, wasn't he?

"Why in the world are you insistin' on doin' all this?" Lizzie muttered, casting her eyes toward the ground to avoid that penetrating look in his eyes. Something inside of her was trembling, and she had a really suspicious feeling that it didn't have anything to do with those infernal drugs that hospital had insisted on giving her.

"I never once said that I didn't like you, Elizabeth," Dave replied, deliberately gentling his voice as he stared down at her bent red hair. Sweeping a soft hand against her head, he added, forcing a grin into his voice, "Wanting to strangle you is part of your charm."

Stepping out of his grip, Lizzie shook her head, trying to force those thoughts out her mind. It was the drugs. It had to be the drugs. "Please just take me home. I'll be fine," she argued, unconvincingly, as the earth seemed to shift beneath her feet and come crashing up to meet her.

Watching as the young beauty seemed to crumble to the ground, Dave felt his heart accelerate again as he reached for her, fear rising quickly in his chest. "Lizzie!"

Lying on her back in the soft grass, she closed her eyes, mortified, as she felt the cold earth pressing against her back. So much for bein' able to take care of herself. "I'm fine," she groaned heavily, pushing up on one elbow, then thinking better of it as she flopped back down, hoping against hope that those spinning circles in her head would just disappear sometime soon. "Just decided to take a preacher's seat for a spell."

"A what?" Dave shouted. Seeing her wince at his raised voice, he quickly shook his head, reaching to lift her into his arms, needing to know that she was alive. "Never mind. Don't answer that. I probably wouldn't understand the translation anyway," he grumbled as her head fell forward to rest against his neck.


	16. Chapter 16

Southern Traditions

Chapter Sixteen

"Just something Daddy always said," Lizzie murmured tiredly, wondering for a second how she had managed to leave the ground so quickly. Up. Down. Up. Down. Moaning again as she bounced in his arms, her arms tightened around his neck as she whispered, eyes closed, "Maybe the Lord'll take mercy on me and just rapture me right on out of here."

"I don't think the Almighty is quite ready for your presence in heaven right now, honey," Rossi assured her, unable to ignore the tight feeling in his chest that had appeared at the unexpected thoughts of a life without her. Telling himself that he was overreacting, he kicked open his back door quickly, stalking through his bright kitchen until he reached the den.

"Home sweet home," he said gruffly, easing her down carefully on the leather sofa, suddenly missing the feel of her slight weight in his arms. Watching her eyes open as she took in her surroundings, he quickly pressed a hand to her shoulder as she struggled to sit up. "Elizabeth Grace Winstead, do not even think of moving, dammit."

Pinching his wrist as she whacked his chest, she declared loudly, her dilated eyes flashing, "I can't be lyin' down in a strange man's home. Why, my sainted granny'd turn over in her grave if she knew that I was here without the benefit of a chaperone!"

"Babe," Dave replied as he tried to hold back a grin, tugging her tiny body forward as he stuffed a couple of throw pillows behind her back, "you're really gonna have to introduce me to some of these relatives of yours."

"Well that'd be hard with granny," Lizzie sighed, leaning back against the pillows and realizing that it was a bit more comfortable that way. Maybe that man had a few uses. "She's pushin' up daisies in the concrete orchard. But grandadddy's still livin'. He's ninety one, you know, but still sharp as a tack, still serves on the Deacon Board at the church and farms the back forty. Although," Lizzie murmured, raising a eyebrow at Dave, "he don't cotton real well to Yankees."

"Honey, in case you missed it, the Civil War ended close to a hundred and fifty years ago," Dave chuckled as he leaned forward to whisper against her ear, "And the Yankees won."

"It was the War of Northern Aggression and ya'll cheated to win," Lizzie replied pertly, pushing him away with a slam of her hand against his chest. "I mean, really, who besides a Yankee burns a whole city just to make a point?"

"Well, honey, you all should have listened when we said slavery was a no-no," Dave chided, his eyes twinkling at the rise he was getting out of the beautiful, tiny woman beside him.

"That blame war was NOT over any slavery! It was about state's rights!" Lizzie huffed, crossing he arms underneath her breasts as she straightened her shoulders. "Slavery is what the Yankees all tell themselves they fought for to make themselves feel better about makin' us live with those infernal Carpetbaggers you sent to the South. And incidentally, MY family never owned one person of ANY color and we STILL fought in that war."

Trying not to notice the way her breasts thrust forward as she argued, pressing her thin white blouse in all the right places, Dave tried to avert his gaze. But, damn, he was only a man. And in her righteous anger, Elizabeth Winstead was a glorious sight to behold. Feeling his body temperature begin to rise, he wondered for a moment if his furnace was in overdrive. Yet, she definitely didn't seem to be experiencing any heating issues.

Turning away quickly to avoid breaking any more commandments, which he was beginning to believe that God would smite him just to make Lizzie happy, Rossi said gruffly, "I'm sure that there's a monument in that hometown of yours detailing all of that sacrifice, Lizzie, so how about we lay that subject to rest?"

"Right on the lawn in front of the courthouse, pretty as you please," Lizzie said with a snort, shifting against the surprisingly comfortable cushions as she tried to pull her skirt down, the fabric hiking uncontrollably. "You brought it up, Mr. Yankee."

"Well, now I'm dropping it," he said, shaking his head as he heard her muttering behind him.

Staring at his strong back as he walked across the small room to the desk in the corner, she narrowed her eyes as she saw him reach for the phone, her voice suspicious as she asked, "What are you doing now?"

Sighing as he pressed the button on his answering machine, he answered with a calm that he definitely didn't feel, "I'm expecting my publisher to call about my latest edits."

Hearing the old fashioned whir of a tape, Lizzie grinned widely as she sing-songed, "Oh good Lord, are you still living in the dark ages? Even I have digital voice mail, Agent Rossi. We could get Penelope to set it up for you lickety split, and you'd be in the twenty-first century in two shakes of a lamb's tail."

Rolling his eyes, he glared back at her as he said, pointing a stern finger, "Let's get one thing straight, woman. You keep your hands off my answering machine, you got it? The last thing I need is that woman creating a monstrosity that takes eighteen post-college degrees to operate…and you egging her on. I know how this thing works and it's doing a fine job."

Listening as mechanical voice filled the room, informing them both that there were eight messages waiting, she snapped back, rubbing the back of her neck, "Well, if you're insisting on keepin' me a prisoner here, you can't expect me to loll around like a snake on a hot summer's day. I've got to do something to earn my keep."

"You want to make me happy, Lizzie? Plant your ass on the couch and stay where I can see you at-," Dave began as a feminine voice filled the room. And it definitely didn't belong to the shapely redhead currently sitting on his couch.

"Da-vid, daahhling," the voice crooned, exuding sex appeal. "It's Lana…you remember, don't you? Barbados, two years ago. You, me and a whole pitcher of mojitos making love for three glorious nights…"

"Oh, dear Lord," Lizzie gasped, her jaw dropping as a blush crept across her shocked face, her hands slapped against her cheeks.

"Damn it," Dave growled, slapping random buttons in his panic to shut off the damn machine. How the hell did one turn one of these things off? He'd never stopped in mid-message, had he? Sparing a quick look toward Lizzie, he was fairly certain she was moments away from implosion as Lana's voice continued detailing the acts he'd performed with her in a different lifetime.

"….Come on, Davie," the voice begged sexily. "I still remember how you loved licking the raspberry jam off my…"

"Oh for the love of God!" Dave yelled in desperation, eyes dancing wildly as he finally reached for the plug and yanked it out of the outlet before that woman could say anything else incriminating about the man he'd been once upon a time. A long, long ago once upon a time.

Silence reigned for only a scant moment as Dave stood facing the wall, his eyes closed tightly as he waited for the wrath that was Elizabeth Winstead to explode behind him. God, please, take me quick, he mutely begged. Unfortunately for him, God had other plans for his earthly existence, indeed.


	17. Chapter 17

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Seventeen**

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Lizzie shook her head as she found her voice. "Trust me, Agent Rossi…I don't think God loves you ANYMORE whatsoever. Raspberry jam…who desecrates a good pot of jam like that? Do you know how long it takes to put up a good run of preserves?" Pausing, she added, head cocked to the side, her voice rising exponentially, "And ya'll did it in plain sight on the beach?"

"Lizzie," Dave replied, holding up a hand to try to quiet the tornado building behind him. "I can…,"

"AND in the daylight?" Lizzie screeched, her feet hitting the floor loudly as she ignored the mounting headache behind her eyes. "Have you no shame? No decency? No morals? I mean, I knew you had a reputation…but that was…was…"

"Another lifetime ago," Dave tried to explain, although even he realized that his voice sounded a bit weak.

Pointing a finger at him, Lizzie narrowed her eyes. "You, sir, need to find the Lord. Quickly! You aren't gettin' any younger and…what did she mean you made her see stars?" Lizzie asked veering off on her train of thought, thanks to the pharmaceuticals flowing through her veins. Twisting her mouth as she examined the man before her, her eyes roaming up and down his body, she asked, suddenly, "Why are women always sayin' that about you?"

"Don't ask questions that you don't want to know the answers to, woman," Rossi replied gruffly, his deep words flowing out before he could stop them. Watching as her stunning green eyes widened, her red hair cocking slightly to the side, he groaned inwardly as his overactive imagination provided a few creative ways he'd like to show her a few stars of her own. Hell, at the rate he was responding to her mere presence in his home, he was certain that he could make her see an entire constellation and a far away universe.

"What in the name of all that is holy are you talking about now? And why didn't you answer my question?" Lizzie asked quizzically, propping an elbow on the arm of the couch as she leaned her aching head against her hand.

Valiantly ignoring the thoughts coursing through his mind, which required far more effort than he remembered, he reached down to jam the plug back into the electrical socket, righting the machine on his desk as he said, "Just forget it, Lizzie. I think it's time for you to take another pill, anyway."

Her face scrunching at the thought, she shook her head, ignoring the rising pain in her temple as she said firmly, "No, thank you. Those infernal things make me loopy." But even as the words were slipping out of her mouth, she felt the pain growing as she squinched her eyes closed against the sunlight seeping through the blinds.

Seeing her sudden wince, her hand pressing against the obvious bruise on her head, Rossi moved back toward the couch, his feet eating the short distance in seconds. Pushing her hand out of the way, he said, sternly, "Let me see that bump, Lizzie."

Feeling her head tilted as strong but surprisingly gentle fingers touched her face, Lizzie mumbled as she let her eyes open just enough to glare at him, "I said I was fine. It's just a twinge."

"Twinge, my ass," Dave muttered, his fingertips gently easing down her cheek as he stared down into her captivating green eyes.

"I bet you don't talk to that Lana woman like that," Lizzie retorted, her thoughts once again returning to the colorful message she'd been privy to.

Reaching for the bag of medication on the coffee table, Dave quickly reached inside for the bottle of painkillers. Tapping out a couple of the white tablets that would hopefully find the mute button for the spitfire sitting against his hip, Dave replied, evenly, "If you must know, I haven't talked to Lana at all in over two years."

"I heard," Lizzie said, reaching for the caplets in his hand and tossing them to the back of her throat, unwilling to wait for the water when she knew she needed the relief those little miracles could provide her. "Do a lot of women call you out of the blue askin' to do things that I hope I don't even find within the confines of holy matrimony?" she asked tartly.

"A lot of women happen to like those things, Elizabeth," Dave answered archly, scooting heavier against the cushions. "Maybe you ought to give some of them a chance before condemning the notions to the pits of a fiery hell," he suggested, wanting to needle her just a bit. God knew, he'd fallen in love with that becoming blush of hers.

"There's a reason the Devil keeps those fires burning so hot, Agent Rossi," Lizzie shot back just as archly, sliding down ever so slightly on the couch as she leaned her head against the cushion. "All the better to burn those notions right out of my mind. Why, if my Momma even knew that I was thinkin' about such things, she'd blister my behind with a hickory switch before I could say zippedy do da."

"Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie," Rossi sighed, captured by the light reflected in her unique eyes, the light flecks of gold standing out against the dark green. "Some man's going to have his hands full teaching you about the facts of life."

"Oh, I know all about the birds and the bees," Lizzie said confidently. The sudden invasion of more medicines on an empty stomach were making a quick impact on her system, loosening her tongue ever so slightly as she relaxed even more against the buttery soft leather. "I was raised on a farm, you know. And Mama gave me the Talk when I turned sixteen. Said she reckoned I was old enough to know what a woman's bounden duty was, considerin' I had reached that special age."

"Bounden duty?" Rossi asked in bemusement, shifting against her warm body, their hips colliding again as he propped a hand on the back of the couch.

"From the time of Adam and Eve, it is a woman's God-given duty to bear children to populate the earth," Lizzie recited primly, from memory, her eyes widening almost comically as she added, in a loud whisper, "And Momma always added that it was a woman's curse because Eve was caught flittin' around in her birthday suit in broad daylight, asssociatin' with talkin' snakes who were channelin' the Devil, and eatin' decadent fruit not fit for pie or jelly. I think that's why it's not supposed to be fun, you know."

"Sweetheart, I hate to be the one to burst your bubble," Dave whispered with a grin, staring down into those bright eyes of hers, "-but, that's just something mothers told their daughters to keep them on the straight and narrow road. I think you're old enough to know that men and women have sex because it's also a hell of a lot of fun and it feels really, REALLY good."


	18. Chapter 18

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Eighteen**

"Daddy always said that if something feels that good…it's a sin," Lizzie informed his briskly. "And besides, I haven't always been a good girl." Looking around she lowered her voice as she said in a hushed voice, almost as if she was revealing a deep, dark secret, "The one and only time I let a boy anywhere near somewhere he had no business goin', it hurt like the dickens. I ain't in any rush to repeat the experience."

"I can assure you, then, honey…he was doing it wrong," Dave said softly, smiling tenderly at her as he reached for another pillow, sliding it easily underneath her arm.

"Well, that's what I tried to tell him. And the more determined he got, the more I decided that there are some places on a woman's body that should never see the light," Lizzie sighed deeply, leaning back against the pillows to stare at his face hovering above hers. Thoughts veering again rapidly, those lovely little pills making her feel oh-so-pleasant, Lizzie smiled dazedly. "But, I'll give you this much. You are a handsome devil. Still a devil, nevertheless…But handsome."

"How about you tell me that again when you're not experiencing the miracles of modern medicine?" Rossi suggested with a chuckle, tamping down the definite male appreciation that was starting to surface as he gazed at the beautiful woman before him. Her cheeks flushed ever so slightly under his perusal, and he couldn't help but notice how her eyes seemed to change colors as she blinked them slowly.

"But I wanna talk now," Lizzie mumbled, her hand creeping up to play with the buttons on the sleeve of his jacket, her fingers rubbing sensuously against molded metal. Whispering, she added, almost mischievously, "I've never been in a man's house alone, you know. Momma always said it was tempting fate to walk into the devil's playground unescorted, and that a girl was only lookin' for trouble when she crossed that line."

"It seems like your mother had quite a few opinions on the opposite sex, didn't she?" Rossi replied drily, unable to move away as he felt her fingers trace against his watch, dropping to his hand.

Her eyes widening as she leaned up suddenly, she said, shocked, pressing her finger to her lips, "Shhh! We don't say that word in mixed company!"

"What word, Lizzie?" Rossi asked, eyebrows bunching together as he wondered if the medicines were truly beginning to overtake her. Clinically examining those same eyes that had just mesmerized him, he didn't see any obvious tell-tale signs of over medication.

"S-E-X," Lizzie intoned, shaking her head even as she whispered the letters, her cheeks blushing once again as she averted her eyes from his.

"Sweetheart, a three letter word, contrary to what your parents might have told you, won't hurt you. I swear," Dave declared solemnly while trying not to laugh at her scandalized face.

"Now I know why girls get in trouble around you," Lizzie said with a shake of her red curls, dropping back against the pillows. "You could make a nun forget herself."

"Honey, I HAVE made a nun forget herself. Once. In my youth," he winked, twining a stray red curl around his fingers as he spoke. "But, I'll have you know that I've walked a very straight path since I came back to the BAU."

"Why?" Lizzie asked, sliding a hand up the smooth material of his jacket, the soft feel comforting as she watched his face. "Seems to me with girls like Lana around, you'd be plenty busy."

"Maybe I got tired of fast and loose women," Dave confided, staring down at her rapt face and feeling something twist inside him. Damn, but she had the fullest red lips he'd ever laid eyes on. Ripe…plump…kissable. "Perhaps I decided that I wanted more of a challenge, Lizzie."

"And maybe my Uncle Amos' pot bellied pig will sprout wings and fly…but I doubt it," Lizzie giggled, fingering his tie.

"Now that sounds like you don't believe me, honey," he replied, shaking his head as he leaned against her touch, shifting his arm on the edge of the couch as he slid a finger against the collar of her pristine white blouse. "I'm hurt."

"What you are is a Casanova, Agent Rossi," Lizzie replied smartly, sighing as she felt the pad of his finger skimming against her neck. For a moment, her befuddled mind wondered what was happening to her body. Why was this infernal man making her feel like a potbelly stove had been lit inside her tummy? Focusing on her last word, she cocked her head then, her mind quickly shifting to another track as she declared, suddenly, "Rossi's a strange name."

"Huh?" His head popped up, his eyes slamming back to hers as he forced his over-active mind to pay attention to her words.

"On my tongue. It's a strange name. Ros-si, Rosssss-eeee, Ros-eeeeee." Her eyes danced as she practiced his last name, her tongue flicking out of her plump lips just as she let out the last syllable.

His eyes couldn't help but be drawn back to those delectable lips, the tip of her tongue drawing his attention as she chanted his name. Dropping a finger against her bottom lip, he said, hoarsely, "Honey, I think you've got it down pat now, don't you?"

Feeling his finger pressing against her lip, the weight not unpleasant, she couldn't seem to stop herself as she flicked her tongue against it, the calloused feel against her tip an interesting new texture for her. Covering his hand with hers, she said, laughing, "Now you try. You say my name."

"I know how to say your name, Lizzie," he muttered, unable to move his hand from her smooth face. Clearing his throat, he said, "And you know you don't have to keep referring to me as Agent Rossi. I have a first name. It's perfectly fine if you want to call me Dave."

"Oh, I call you lots of names when you aren't listenin'," Lizzie informed him with a mischievous grin, popping her head up. "Let's see…there's idjit, jackass, that blame man…" she recited, ticking them off on her fingers.

Covering her mouth gently with his fingers, Dave chuckled. "I think I've caught your drift, babe. You can stop now," he said, dropping his hand to her cheek. "You did forget one though…not thirty seconds ago you added handsome devil to my repertoire. I think I like that one best," he winked, his own grin covering his face as he couldn't stop staring at this vision of beauty before him.

Shaking her head as her body tingled, Lizzie sighed. "You would…confirmed players always like those kind of labels."

"Lizzie, believe it or not, I've changed in the last few years," Dave said, quietly staring down into her eyes as he felt himself drawn to her. For some reason, some unexplainable reason, he wanted this woman to know that he was not the scoundrel that he had once been.

"A guilty dog barks the loudest," Lizzie giggled, blinking her eyes slowly as she watched his dark eyes. Boy howdy, he definitely had beautiful eyes. She wondered if any of those floozies that seemed to be drawn to him like a moth to a flame had ever told him that.

"Huh?" Dave grunted as his finger traced a gentle pattern against the soft skin of her cheek.

"It's a pretty way of sayin' that you're plumb full of hooey," Lizzie laughed, tangling her fingers in his dangling tie. "Although," she sighed, "right now, I don't think I care. I think I just wanna know what all the fuss is about. Com'ere, Agent Rossi, let's see if you really do make all those girls see stars," she breathed tugging at his tie as she lifted her lips to his.


	19. Chapter 19

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Nineteen**

Pressing her lips innocently to his for a bare second, Dave felt his breath catch in his throat as her head dropped back to the pillow.

"Nope, nary a star to be seen," Lizzie said, shaking her head sadly, her bottom lip pouting out as she blinked her long eyelashes. "Those ladies lied to you, Agent Rossi. You ain't nearly as fine as they done told you."

Meeting her gaze with shocked eyes, it took a moment for Dave to find his voice. "It usually helps if you have my cooperation, Elizabeth," Dave replied hoarsely, reminding himself that he shouldn't let her innocent insult sting.

"I know I'm not addled enough that I just imagined that you were just a part of that. Or was I?" Her voice trailed off in the end, her eyes widening as she stared up at him, then added, more confidently, "Nope, you kissed me. I felt it."

Shaking his head as he slipped his hand down her porcelain neck, he studiously ignored the screaming voice of reason in the back of his mind as he said, leaning forward, "No, honey, YOU kissed ME. When I'M finished kissing you, you're going to see more than stars. You'll remember every damn constellation in the sky."

"What in the name of all that's holy are you yammering about now?" Lizzie asked, frowning as she leaned against his strong hand, the feel of his fingers on her neck sending a shiver down her spine.

He felt her breath gasp against his lips as he claimed hers, gently nudging her full lower lip as he buried his hand in those soft abundant curls. Sliding his tongue against her upper lip, prodding ever so slightly, he felt her sigh, and he easily took advantage of the opportunity, sweeping his tongue inside, her innate warmth drawing him deeper and deeper.

Deftly flicking the sensitive tip of her tongue, he grinned, his lips widening against hers, as he felt her hands tighten convulsively on his tie, pulling him closer. Tightening his fingers against her neck, he angled them both, turning her slightly as he deepened the kiss, the tightening in his own gut reminding him that it had been months since he felt passion like this. Hell, it might have been years, but his body was a little too occupied to analyze the situation in depth.

Gasping as he finally pulled his lips away from hers, only to begin kissing a blazing trail down her swan's neck, he heard Lizzie's sharp gasp as his fingertips trailed over her cloth covered puckered nipples. "What do you think you're doin'?" Lizzie squeaked, her voice unusually high to her own ears as her traitorous body arched against his practiced touch. She wanted to understand, to rail, but her mind seemed sluggish suddenly, drugged by far more than man-made pharmaceuticals.

"Honey, in case you missed it, you threw down the gauntlet," Dave murmured against her neck, his tongue rasping against her perfect skin. "I just picked the damned thing up."

"Yeah, forty goin' north," Lizzie panted, her arms automatically wrapping around his neck as his teeth gently worried her earlobe. Closing her eyes at the sensations he was creating in her body, Lizzie mentally shrugged as she pulled him closer. Oh, well, granny had always said, 'In for a penny, in for a pound'.

Shifting his body over hers and grasping her hips gently as he moved to cover her lips again, Dave whispered, "Tell me, sweetheart…you seeing those stars yet?"

"Perhaps," she admitted as she struggled to catch her breath, her heart racing like Richard Petty's racecar in her chest as she tried to put words to her thoughts. "One or two."

His chuckle rumbled against her lips, his beard lightly tickling her cheek as he said, his voice holding a tone that she wasn't sure she had ever heard before, "Hang on, honey. An entire constellation's about to rain down from heaven."

The heat of his hands seeped through her linen skirt, warming her hips and short circuiting any thoughts she might have been thinking. A very unladylike groan rose in her throat as she surrendered to his devilish lips again, her own tongue venturing out hesitantly to touch his as he seemed to take over her mouth. And her very control.

Tangling his tongue with hers, he poured every ounce of passion he currently felt into his kiss as his fingers busily attacked the row of tiny pearl buttons impeding his progress. Finally releasing the last button from its loophole, he deepened their kiss as his warm hand found one perfect ripe globe. Palming the heavy weight in his hand, he swept his thumb against its tip, worrying her straining nipple.

Tearing her lips from his, Lizzie gasped as she pressed her head into the pillow behind her head. "Dave," she moaned, slipping into a pleasure zone that she was certain she had never known.

Hearing his given name flow from her parted lips as he stared down at her flushed face only served to ratchet his arousal up another notch, driving him to see her mindless with pleasure. Settling a heavy thigh between her restless legs, he exerted just the smallest amount of pressure against her, wrenching another cry from her lips as he bent his head to draw her lace covered breast into his mouth.

Feeling her hips lift to rub her core against his thigh, Dave groaned around her breast. White-hot desire for the woman in his arms made him desperate to taste her sweet flesh, and he hastily brushed the lace aside, bearing her to his heated gaze. Damn, she really was as beautiful as he'd imagined. Smooth ivory skin and the most perfect pink tipped breasts he'd ever seen.

Shifting her body restlessly against his thigh, Lizzie huffed out a frantic breath, clutching his shoulders as he bent his head to encase a hard tipped breast in his warm mouth. Hadn't her mama implied this kind of thing hurt? Hadn't it hurt before? Shaking her head, Lizzie realized her thoughts were a jumbled mess. She couldn't latch on to one single notion long enough to think it through. And this handsome sinner currently drivin' her to distraction was only makin' matters worse. That, coupled with the desperate need for something just beyond her reach, only made her clutch him closer. "Sweet Lord," Lizzie gasped as she felt that wonderful tug at her breast again.

Dragging his lips up her body again to cover her mouth, Dave muttered, "Lizzie...sweet, sweet Lizzie!" Kissing her deeply as he felt her hips lifting against his leg, he swallowed her strangled scream of completion as she convulsed against him. Tearing his lips from hers, he held her quivering body tightly against him as shudders overtook her.

Breathing raggedly, Lizzie met his gaze with wide, frantic eyes. "Wh-what was that?" she whispered breathlessly, barely able to communicate in any form, clutching his shirt tightly with her fingers.

"What was what, honey?" Dave asked softly, his own body still screaming for release.

"Th-that feeling?" Lizzie asked, burying her hot face against his neck, her breath still slipping out in furtive gasps. "I've never felt ANYTHING like that," she confessed heavily, her words muffled against his neck as his arms tightened around her, settling her body against his.

Ignoring the raging needs of his own body, Dave smiled against her hair. "That was me showing you the stars, sweetheart."

"Those weren't stars," Lizzie denied, shaking her head, curls bouncing. "Those were meteorites," she corrected, rubbing her face against his shirt.

Biting back a laugh, Dave pressed a kiss to her hair, carefully noting the slight slurs he was hearing in her words. "Shhh…Lizzie. Close your eyes and let those pills do the job they were meant for, sweetheart," he urged, rubbing a soothing hand down her fragile spine. And moments later, when he realized the mouthy spitfire had been silent far longer than was usual for her, Dave glanced down. Curled against him, she slumbered, her body completely wrapped in his.

And damn, if it didn't feel like the most natural thing in the world.


	20. Chapter 20

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Twenty**

Easing down the hallway, his steps heavy as he carefully carried the precious feminine cargo in his arms, Rossi debated for a moment exactly where he was going. The deliberation didn't last long. The guest bedrooms were up two flights of stairs and on the other end of his home. Definitely too far away in case she needed something. He wouldn't want her to awaken alone in a strange house, now would he?

Turning easily, he stepped into his own bedroom and, telling himself that Lizzie would definitely be much more comfortable in his bed, he kicked back the down comforter and gently placed her on the cool dark sheets. Slipping her open blouse off easily, he hesitated for a moment, knowing that he was about to cross one of Lizzie's unassailable lines. But seconds later, her pencil thin skirt joined her blouse on the floor. She couldn't sleep in restrictive clothes, now could she?

Taking one long, less than platonic look at the amazing woman before him, he finally forced himself to slide the sheets over her chilled body. Watching as her pale eyelashes fluttered as she moaned slightly in her sleep, he placed a soft hand against her cheek, doing his best to ignore the tug in his chest as she snuggled against his touch. Glancing at the other side of the bed, he considered, briefly, the merits of slipping in beside her, snuggling against her willing, pliable warmth, waiting for her to awaken and finish what they had started earlier. Jerking his thoughts out of that decidedly tempting direction, he swept a few stray strands off her soft cheek, unable to resist pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as he whispered, reassuringly, "Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

Her answering sigh whispered against his neck, and he forced himself to step away, to let her get the rest that she desperately needed. Damn it, he thought darkly, what was happening to him? If he had listened to his libido, which was still decidedly peeved that he had stopped short of full satisfaction, he would have stayed on the couch, keeping this amazing woman tucked tight against him. But the gentleman in him had won, knowing that a real sleep would benefit her far more and help her heal faster.

His darker demons, however, were currently planning retaliation against his better angels. And he was betting that the goody-two-shoes angels were going down in a fiery blaze of glory. Soon.

Tucking the covers under her chin, he couldn't help but gaze in amazement at the picture before him. Had someone told him that this petite spitfire would be in his bed, in any form or fashion, at this time, he would have laughed loudly and accused them of dipping into the moonshine that Lizzie's neighbors surely produced.

And yet, here she was, red curls spread against HIS pillow in HIS bed in HIS house. And while he could attribute her current somnolence partially to the medications coursing through her veins, he liked to think that their extracurricular activities on the couch had added to her sleeping state.

Reluctantly stepping away from his bed, he measured his steps, avoiding the creaking plank close to the door as he moved back into the hallway, pulling the door partially so as to allow her to sleep undisturbed. But while she might be sleeping peacefully, he suddenly found himself in a dilemma of sorts, wondering how he had managed to allow that amazing spitfire to become so important to him. Eighteen long months of solitude suddenly disappeared in one day as Elizabeth Winstead had wiggled her way into his life, all because she couldn't keep that damned gun of hers inside her purse.

Stepping back into the den, he headed toward his desk, settling into his favorite leather chair as he reached for the phone. Glancing at the small clock on the corner of his desk, he easily hit the speed dial button that would quickly connect the call. Assuming, of course, he thought with a sigh, that this time the man answered his phone.

Hearing a slight creak in the distance, he quickly cast his eyes toward the door, wondering if Lizzie had awakened. But hearing nothing else, he turned his attention back to the phone, suddenly hearing Aaron Hotchner voice in his ear.

"Hello? Dave, is that you? I know this is your number. Are you there?"

"I'm here, Aaron," Dave replied quickly, pressing the receiver harder against his ear as he asked, calmly, "How's the interview going? Any good information we can use yet?"

"I don't want to talk about an interview, Dave, especially after hearing your message that Lizzie was in a shootout in the middle of the District and is now in your dubious care," Hotch sharp answer came clear through the phone line , his tone implying, however, that he was less than thrilled with the turn of events. "Start talking, Dave, and don't spare the details this time. And please tell me that you have not locked Lizzie in that dank dungeon that you generously refer to as a basement."

"Your trust in me is gratifying, Aaron," Rossi said drily, leaning back in the leather chair as he propped his feet easily on the edge of his desk. "I go out of my way to take care of your cousin because you didn't answer your phone, and this is the thanks I get?"

"Let's just say that I'm well aware of the fireworks that seem to erupt anytime you and Lizzie are within twenty feet of one another, Dave," Hotch said knowingly, his voice fading for a moment as the cellular connection failed then returned clearly. "Now, again, how's Lizzie? And have you two managed to keep from maiming one another yet?"

Ignoring the slight tug in his chest as he remembered the fireworks that had occurred earlier, he told himself that Hotch would probably not appreciate a description of that little adventure. Staring out the window, the bright sunlight warming his face, Rossi said truthfully, "Lizzie's fine, other than a bump on the head and a boatload of meds. She's sound asleep in bed right now, so you have nothing to worry about."

Sighing his relief, Hotch continued, "Well, just try to keep from doing each other bodily harm for the next twenty-four hours. I should be home midmorning tomorrow to take her off your hands. Earlier, if I can catch a flight out tonight."

Dave automatically shook his head. "Hotch, she's fine, man. In fact, I think your cousin and I might be reaching a truce. By tomorrow, we could be bosom buddies," Dave replied, mentally groaning at his poor word choice.

"Yeah right…and one day, pigs will fly," Hotch snorted.

"Oh, God…her condition is contagious," Dave groaned. "What is it about southerners and animals?"

Ignoring his comment, Hotch ordered, "Just take care of her for me until I get home, Dave. Lizzie's special…she might have a hard shell, but she's got a really soft center. Don't be an ass."

"I got it, Hotch," Dave sighed, feeling a slight twinge of guilt at the liberties he'd taken with the woman currently in his bed. "Have a safe flight."

Dropping the phone back to the desk, Rossi leaned back, the leather chair creaking as he propped his hands behind his head. Staring at the ceiling for what seemed like forever, he tried to convince himself that this was a momentary dalliance with the beauty in his bed. That her cousin would definitely not approve of this turn of events. That she was too young, too inexperienced for him.

And yet, no matter how sternly he lectured himself, he couldn't help but remember how perfect she felt tucked against him. Just like she was made to fit.

Just like she belonged. To him.


	21. Chapter 21

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Finally ignoring those rampant thoughts that seemed to overtake his normally coherent thinking, Dave reached for his laptop as he promised himself that he would redeem his time productively. If he pressed, he might complete another chapter of his new book. And that would have an added bonus of keeping his mind occupied and not reliving those recent moments with that amazing woman.

And, to some extent, he succeeded in his mission. But a few hours later, his well thought out plans were suddenly halted as a slight whimper floated down the hallway, the cry catching his attention immediately. Jerking up quickly, his steps ate up the distance from his den to his bedroom in record time, worry rising back to the surface as his mind automatically assumed the worst, expecting complications from her concussion.

Skidding to a stop beside his bed, he reached out a hand, gently touching her cheek as he watched her eyes squinch tightly, her hands gripping convulsively at the edge of the comforter. Easing down on the mattress beside her, he murmured softly, "Lizzie, it's okay. Just sleep, honey."

She absently pressed her cheek against his hand, seeking the warmth he offered as she said hoarsely, her voice seeming to crawl slowly out of her throat, "Dave?"

"Yeah, it's me, honey," he whispered, not wanting to disturb her if she was truly still sleeping. "Are you hurting more?"

"Colder than a witch's titties in a brass bra in here," she muttered heavily, her words almost inaudible as she tugged the comforter, trying to tuck the covers closer as her shoulders shook.

Furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to decipher this latest foray into Lizzie-speak, he rolled his eyes as he recognized the shiver coursing through her. Turning, he pushed the thermostat up a couple of degrees as he settled the covers more firmly against her. "It'll get warmer in a second, babe."

"Wanna be warm now," she grumbled against her pillow, drawing her legs up as she tried to curl up on herself.

Barely suppressing a grin at the petulant way she frowned in her half-sleep, Dave sighed as he toed off his shoes. Unbuttoning his shirt as he watched her burrow into the covers, her tiny body swallowed by his bed, he tossed it in the chair behind him.

Climbing into bed behind her, he scooted his body toward her, reaching for her as he moved. Hauling her soft, pliant body into his arms, he couldn't help the smile he felt as she turned in his arms, burying her cool face against his neck as she fit her body against his unconsciously.

"Mmmm, better," she sighed gratefully, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Like a furnace," she murmured appreciatively, tucking her hands underneath his tee shirt to bury her fingers in the wiry hair on his chest.

Hissing as her fingertips scraped the sensitive skin of his chest, Dave grimaced, his body once again remembering her touch of only a few short minutes ago. And as his rational brain commenced firm negotiations with his raging libido, David Rossi closed his eyes and began reciting the names of every saint he could remember.

If he could survive this, then he himself deserved to be nominated for sainthood. Immediately.

~*~

Her head hurt. That's all she could process. And it wasn't just a simple hurt. No sirree bob, this was a full fledged five alarm pain clanging inside her noggin. Trying to find her hand, Lizzie jerked hard against whatever was keeping her arm pinned, finally freeing her fingers…which she immediately pressed to her aching head.

But that action turned out to be less than helpful as she rubbed against the knot forming at her hairline. Wincing at the pressure, she pulled her fingers away quickly, but not before she felt and heard herself moaning. Pressing her fingers back in that spot again, this time more carefully, she tried to determine exactly what in the name of tarnation had happened to her. But her mind didn't seem to want to cooperate, leaving her just as befuddled as she was earlier.

Sighing, she slid her hand back underneath the wonderfully delicious covers, thanking her God that she was at least warm. Somehow, she remembered being cold earlier, then suddenly getting warm. Very warm. Very quickly. Searching her mind, which seemed to take longer than normal for some strange reason, she couldn't quite put the pieces together, the puzzle just right out of her reach.

Feeling her head start to throb again, she tried to ignore it, to snuggle deeper into the soft mattress. But suddenly her hands leaned against something that was decidedly not soft. As a matter of fact, if her crazy little mind was able to steer her in the right direction, that felt like another person. Didn't it?

Slowly cracking open one eye, almost afraid at what she would see, Lizzie tried to focus, but the darkness seemed to be too heavy to navigate. Turning her head sharply, she hissed as she felt the pain slide round and round like a tilt-a-whirl, her body spinning as she grabbed onto the first solid thing she could reach.

He felt her hands clawing at him, her whimper in his ear again. Coming awake immediately, Dave asked urgently as he reached for her, his hands settling on her hip, "Lizzie, honey, what's wrong?"

Suddenly, her massive headache no longer seemed to be her biggest concern. Jerking upward in the comfortable bed as she heard that achingly familiar voice echoing inside her head, Lizzie whispered, squeezing her eyes shut, "I imagined that! This is a dream…gotta be a dream…can't be happenin'!" But as she opened one eye and peered to her right, she shrieked. "Not a dream! NOT a dream!"

David bloomin' Rossi was in bed with her…and if his bare chest was ANY indication, he was stark naked!

Jumping out of the bed like a scalded cat, covers thrown around in a tizzy, Lizzie screamed again as she pointed a finger at him, "You're in my bed!"

"Actually, honey, if you wanna get technical about it at," Dave said tiredly, his mind sluggish in the early morning hour, "six in the morning," he offered, peering at the clock as he turned on the side lamp, "YOU were in MY bed."

Shaking her head, Lizzie ignored the pain that action brought as she focused widened eyes on his sleepy face. "What'd you do, you…you…Lothario? Better yet," she gasped, staring down at her bare body, clad only in a brief pair of panties and bra, whispering in horror, "What'd I do?"

"Lizzie, quit screaming and come back to bed," Dave groaned, dropping his head heavily back against the pillows as another shriek rent the air. Despite the amazing sight of her lovely body, it was simply too damned early to deal with a hysterical Elizabeth Winstead.

"Are you demented?" Lizzie shouted, snatching the blanket covering him from the bed and wrapping it around her as she bounced up and down, red curls dancing around her pale shoulders.

Lifting his head to eye her appreciatively, he couldn't resist pulling her chain. Smiling wolfishly, he said pointedly, "You certainly didn't think so last night, Babe."

"Oh sweet Lord," Lizzie babbled frantically, pressing her hand to her cheek as she paced at the end of the bed. "You're on a one way trip to hell and you're determined to drag ME along for the ride! My daddy had a name for it! I'm a sinner by association! And it's all your blamed fault!"


	22. Chapter 22

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter 22**

"I don't think I'll be shouldering all the blame, sweetheart. I seem to remember it took two to tango last night," Dave replied archly, wriggling his eyebrows in her direction as he bit back a smile. Damn, she was gorgeous when she was angry. Her mussed curls bounced wildly as she paced heavily, her bright green eyes literally flashing daggers in his direction. Her pale cheeks were infused with high spots of red, tinted just perfectly in his opinion.

"What do you mean, TANGO?" tiny Elizabeth Winstead shrieked at the top of her voice, the sound rattling through her brain as she pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. "Exactly what kind of dancin' did we do?" Before he could even say a single word, dismay dawned in her eyes as she pressed fluttering fingers to her lips, her voice strangled as she whispered, "Did we….did we…."

Scooting up to lean against the headboard, Rossi grinned at her, unable to resist the masculine urge that surged through his body as he took in her flustered appearance. Crossing his arms behind his head, he asked, deeply, "What do you think, Lizzie?"

"Don't go answering a question with a question, you ..you…you lecherous skirt chaser!" Lizzie screamed, tightening the comforter as she felt it slipping off her shoulders. Tripping slightly as the fabric caught underneath her bare feet, she jerked quickly as she threw another glare in his direction, blaming him for that, too.

"Lizzie, honey…." Dave began, throwing the covers off his legs.

"Don't you dare go callin' me honey or any of those other names that I'm sure you've used on every Jezebel that has slept in that there bed," she moaned, pressing a hand to her eyes as she shuddered, staring blindly at the ceiling. "My daddy's going to have a conniption fit to end all conniption fits when he finds out about this!"

"Lizzie, if you would just…."

"And my Momma! Oh, sweet Jesus, my Momma is gonna take to her bed when she hears that I've shamed the fam'ly name in such a manner!" Pacing around the large room, she ranted, "Why, she's liable to have Granddaddy write me right out of the Family Bible! We ain't done that to anybody since Cousin Bertrand was caught with that woman of ill-repute over in Silerville when he was supposed to be visitin' the shut ins and down and outs at the local nursin' home."

His eyes easily following her every move, he said, calmly, "Elizabeth, don't you think that…"

"Oh Lordy, what if Aunt Melva Jane finds out?" Lizzie moaned as she leaned against the wall, closing her eyes and pressing her hand dramatically to her forehead, "She's got such a blabbermouth, you know. She would talk to a fencepost if it would listen long enough, and I just KNOW she'll head right on over to the local newspaper and spill her guts to that new girl runnin' the gossip column, which means that ALL of Piermont will know the dirty details before you can say John Henry!"

His jaw tightening as he watched her frantic pace increase, he said, more firmly, "Elizabeth, just let me….."

"Oh, no, no, no!" She moaned suddenly, her hands slapping to her burning cheeks as she whispered, "The prayer circles! I'm going to be the main topic of conversation for every Baptist prayer chain in the whole state of Georgia! Sister Gertrude will be runnin' the phone lines day and night, blessin' my heart and spreadin' the sad news of my fall from grace, all to get the faithful prayin' for my everlastin' soul!"

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, Rossi said sternly, and loudly, "Elizabeth Winstead! Would you please shut up and just listen to me?"

Waiting until he had her full attention, her large rounded eyes focused on his face as he stood in front of her, he said slowly, "Nothing happened, honey. Well," he amended, grimacing slightly at the memories from the night before, "almost nothing happened."

"You're lyin' like a no-legged dog," Lizzie hissed, dropping the comforter to slap his arm, sharply. "Explain why I'm naked as a jaybird then! And articulate for me why my last memory of us last night was on your couch doin' things that I have it on good authority should be confined to marriage bed! And why did I let you do them to me?" Narrowing her eyes dangerously, she glared at him as she asked, "Did you get me drunk and take advantage of me?"

"What?" Dave asked, jaw dropping as he looked at the beautiful, mostly nude spitfire in front of him. "Of course not! You were drugged."

"You drugged me?" Lizzie shrieked, slapping him again, her hands raining damage against him as she advanced, eyes flashing.

"Ouch! Ouch!" Dave yelped, raising his arms to shield the sharply landed blows. "Lizzie, that came out wrong!" he yelled, trying to capture her tiny hands. Damn, the woman had excellent aim. And sharp claws.

"Hush your mouth and take it like a man," Lizzie shouted, her blows landing faster and harder as she followed him across the room as he retreated.

"I didn't drug you, you drugged yourself," Dave gasped, as one of Lizzie blows landed in an area God only meant to be treated with kind, loving attention. Shifting quickly to avoid another one of those damaging shots, Dave winced.

"Tell the truth and shame the Devil!" Lizzie hissed, landing another shot to his ribcage.

"Oh hell! Honey, I don't even have a clue what you just said!" he groaned, realizing he was going to have to take drastic measures against the woman currently losing her mind in the middle of his bedroom. Moving quickly, Dave grasped Lizzie around the waist, twisting them both and sending them careening back against the soft mattress of the bed.

Pinning her combative arms between them, Dave said, striving to maintain a calm, even tone, "Now, Lizzie, if you'll just give me a second to explain…"

But his words were hastily forgotten as both occupants of the room jerked their heads toward the door as it crashed open.

Gasping, Lizzie could only watch in horror as Aaron Hotchner and James Weston Winstead stood framed in the wide wooden doorway. "Hi, daddy," Lizzie murmured weakly as her father's furious face purpled with rage.

"Daddy?" Dave repeated cluelessly, turning his head to see their new audience.


	23. Chapter 23

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

"Get off me! Get off me!" Lizzie began squealing in earnest, pushing hard at Rossi as she kept one eye crazily glued to her father. "He's got that same look in his eyes that he had the same time he threw Uncle Abner out the top of the grain silo!"

"Your granny is turnin' in her grave this day, young lady!" James voice boomed through the bedroom, echoing off the walls and bouncing around the two occupants currently wrestling on the tussled bed.

Rolling off Lizzie as she scrambled under the sheet, Dave pushed off the mattress, holding up a hand. "Mr. Weston, I presume," Dave sighed, wondering if he'd entered an alternate dimension. Catching a glance of the horror on Lizzie's pixie face, he added, for her benefit more than anyone else, "Sir, I can explain."

Eyes tearing away from his daughter's obviously flustered face, the elder Weston glowered darkly at the dark-haired man. "I'm afraid that dog won't hunt, Boy. I wouldn't even bother getting him out of the truck."

"What?" Dave yelped in frustration, his forehead furrowing as he tried to decipher another Southern euphemism.

"Dave, if you ever had a brain in your head, use it and SHUT. UP!!" Hotch growled, looking from his uncle to his cousin, then toward the man that was once his mentor. "Uncle James," Hotch murmured, his voice low as he turned back to face his uncle, "let's just stay calm here."

Ignoring Hotch completely, James' gaze zoned in on his daughter, frantically attempting to cover her half naked body. "Elizabeth Grace! Explain yourself, girl!" he demanded angrily, his fist gripping at his side.

"Daddy," Lizzie babbled, her head bouncing from side to side as she tightened frantic fingers around the thin sheet, "I don't know what to say! I'm not sure…"

"Well, I'm sure! I'm sure that you done gone and let this here Yankee have a taste of the milk," he growled jerking his head disgustedly at David. "You better pray to our merciful Lord that he's awillin' to buy your cow!"

"Now, Uncle James," Hotch said calmly, recognizing the signs of impending doom, stepping between the older man and Dave, "Remember what Aunt Eunice always said. 'Marry in haste and repent at leisure'."

"Marry?" Dave yelped incredulously, ignoring Hotch's censorious glare as he stalked closer.

Turning to Aaron, James retorted, his eyes narrowing, "Yes, well, my sister never had one of her girls lookin' like a harlot after a bad night in Sodom and Gomorrah! And I always said that a good deal of repentin' never hurt one Christian soul!"

"Now, wait just a damned minute," Dave growled dangerously at the old man's description of Lizzie, his shoulders squaring solidly as he heard Lizzie's whimper.

"Dave, do us all a favor and shut up!" Hotch hissed over his shoulder, his lips pressed together tightly.

"The hell I will! He just called Elizabeth a whore," Dave hissed, moving to step around Aaron, pushing the younger man out of the way. "And I'll be damned if he'll do that in my house!"

"What I choose to say to my daughter is my business," James Winstead ground out harshly, his flashing eyes meeting Rossi's, sliding up and down as he measured the man, taking in his current lack of clothing. Bellowing out loudly, he accused, "And you, sir, cannot be so all-fired concerned about my daughter's reputation. Why, you're obviously old enough to have sired her yourself!"

"What I am is furious at your treatment of your grown daughter," Rossi snapped, meeting Winstead's gaze head on. "The last time I checked, a woman was considered free to make her own choices once she passed the age of eighteen, which Elizabeth did quite a few years ago. I don't know how you manage to rule your world down there in Dixie, but up here in the real world, we have a dim view on modern-day slavery."

"Dave," Hotch warned sharply, watching his uncle's face flush inch by inch, "Stop. Now."

Ignoring both of the men as he moved across the room to where a cowering Lizzie was trying to adjust the comforter around her half-nude body, Rossi tipped her chin, staring into her eyes as he said, softly, "Are you okay, Elizabeth?"

Staring at him in horror, she slapped his hand away as she bit out, "Don't you dare touch me, you …you…wolf in sheep's clothing."

Sighing heavily, Rossi said, calmly, "Honey, in case you've missed it, I'm on your side here."

"You have a fine way of expressin' your concern, David Rossi," she whispered violently, her eyes flitting worriedly toward her father and cousin, her green eyes clouded. "My daddy caught us in your bed! Together! Naked!"

"Lizzie, this is not…." Rossi began, drawing a deep breath as he tried to maintain his tenuous hold on his sanity.

"No! I can't deal with this anymore!" Lizzie said suddenly, slamming her hand to her mouth as she shuddered jerkily off the bed, running toward the side door. "Oh Lordy, I think I'm gonna toss my cookies!"

Watching as his daughter ran for the bathroom, James Winstead's eyes narrowed on the man across the room, his hand clenching at his side. Hissing out of the side of his mouth, he kept his eyes trained on Rossi but addressed Hotch, "Aaron, would you tell that pitiful excuse for a man that I'm surely hopin' that my little girl's not exhibitin' symptoms of bein' in the family way."

"Uncle James, I'm sure that Lizzie's just reacting to the shock of the situation," Aaron hedged, throwing a dark glance toward Rossi, daring the other man to contradict him.

But David Rossi had reached his boiling point, his worry for the young woman who had managed to tug at his heart outweighing any good sense that he might have possessed. Stalking back across the room, he glared at Lizzie's father as he ground out, goading, "And what if she is? Gonna lock her in a fucking dungeon for nine months? Ship her off to a goddamn home for unwed mothers in some convenient, far away location?"

"Oh holy Lord in heaven," James intoned, his face set in stone as he held out a strong hand in Hotch's direction, fingers wriggling. "Son, give me your weapon. It seems that I have a varmint problem that I need to take care of."

"Uncle James, remember your Bible," Hotch begged, turning again to face his taciturn uncle. "Turn the other cheek. And Dave, back away, for God's sake!"

Swinging his gaze to the other man, Dave shook his head. "You've all lost your minds! Nothing happened!" Well, almost nothing, he thought to himself. But neither man in the room with him needed to know that. At least not until he, himself, knew how to interpret it.

"I'd say from the look of things," James growled, looking from Dave's naked chest to the rumpled bed behind him, "that quite a lot happened in this room. And all of it less than honorable."

"No, ALL of it was perfectly innocent," Dave retorted angrily. At least he knew THAT much was true. He'd be damned if someone…anyone…including this pompous, over-inflated bag of hot air masquerading as Lizzie's supposed caring father, would think that she was anything less than perfect.

"I sincerely doubt that, Boy. You think your reputation hasn't managed to reach us down home? Because, I can assure you that it has." Turning his level gaze to Aaron, James declared darkly, "I can't believe that I let you convince me that this is what would be best for my Lizzie after The Incident, Aaron."

"Uncle James, you know it was the best decision at the time," Hotch sighed, running a hand through his hair as he felt his jaw clench. Drawing a deep breath, he said, more calmly than he felt, "Lizzie was wasting away at home. She was terrified all the time and that's no way to live."

"Wait!" Dave ordered, narrowing his eyes. "What incident? And why the hell would Lizzie be scared of anything?" Dave asked sharply, looking from man to man, his tone demanding answers.

"You ain't the first man to try and hurt my little girl," James spat angrily, turning a fierce glare on the man. "But, by God, you're gonna be the last. Aaron, gimmee that gun of yours!"

"Wait just a goddamned minute!" Rossi roared, his eyes turning to look at the closed bathroom door then back at Hotch and company. "What in the hell do you mean someone hurt Elizabeth? Who, Aaron? Who?"


	24. Chapter 24

******_Author's Note: Hey, guys! Don't forget to get your nominations in for the CMFanfic Awards! There's a link on my profile page for those of you that need it! It's a great way to let your favorite stories by recognized! Ballots are due by tomorrow!_**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

"Dave, I don't think that's any of your business right now," Hotch said gravely, his jaw stone set as he stared at his one-time mentor. How in the world had he not seen the signs for this? Why, oh why, had he assumed that Lizzie would not be a conquest for the man who had single-handedly gone through the entire female population of the FBI in his heyday?

"Not my business? I've just been lumped in some unknown category with some bastard who apparently had her scared of her own shadow, which is a far cry from the Elizabeth that has terrorized our lives for the past months," Dave shot back, his glare just as deadly. "And considering that we are standing in the middle of my bedroom in my house and you two happen to be here uninvited, now would not be a good time to be informing me of my rights especially when it concerns a woman I care about."

His eyes narrowing dangerously, Hotch stepped forward as he asked, softly, "What do you mean, care about, Dave? If you had cared about Lizzie in any form or fashion, we wouldn't have found you deflowering her when she was in a weakened state, now would we?"

"Don't bother explaining anything to that man, Son," James said deeply, glowering as he added, piously, "Scripture is clear. A fool hath no delight in understanding."

"Number one, Old Man, I'd be careful calling me a fool. Better than you have found themselves in traction for the lesser things. And number two, NOTHING happened! Not that it's any of your business, but Lizzie's virtue is intact with me," Rossi snarled. "Now, would someone please just answer my question before I call Garcia and have her run a check on every reported crime in the godforsaken state of Georgia," Rossi threatened loudly, his fear at the thoughts of that beautiful woman having suffered any pain gnawing unexpectedly at his soul.

Rolling his eyes, Hotch muttered, glancing over his shoulder at his obviously angry uncle, "We might as well tell him, Uncle James. Unfortunately, he means everything he says and he'll get his answers one way or another."

Shaking his steel grey head, James' lips tightened as his fists clenched at his side. "I ain't talkin' about anything with this sinner. You wanna explain it to him, then go right ahead. But," James said forcefully as he took a threatening step toward Dave, "you mark my words, boy, somebody's gonna make an honest woman out of my girl! Now, they can do that honorably or at the butt of my shotgun…I ain't real particular." Pausing, James growled in Aaron's direction, "I'm goin' back to the hotel. Don't you dare leave your cousin alone with this man under any circumstances!"

"I understand, Uncle James," Hotch nodded respectfully. "I'll take care of her."

"See that you do," James grunted, turning and walking heavily out the bedroom door.

As Hotch heard footsteps on the staircase, he glared at Dave. "You couldn't just keep your damn mouth shut, could you?" he asked angrily, his hands hanging stiffly at his side.

Taking a deep breath of his own, Dave softly retorted, "Aaron, my patience here is running thin. Do I need to remind you what happens next?" Reminding himself that he actually liked Aaron Hotchner, he told himself it would be a pity to have to kill him. Friends were hard to come by at his age, you know. And, of course, Lizzie liked him.

Running a hand down his tired face, Hotch shook his head. "Just shut up a minute, Dave. Give me a second here."

"Just start talking, Aaron. I'm a big boy," Dave said condescendingly. "I'm pretty sure I can take whatever it is that you have to say."

"I doubt it," Hotch grunted. "Especially if you meant what you said about caring for Elizabeth."

"Look man, I don't handle cryptic well before seven in the morning," Dave warned, the hairs on the back of his neck rising at the look on Hotch's face. Glancing back across the room at the door Lizzie had slammed minutes ago, he added, "And I'd prefer not to have this conversation in front of her, if you don't mind."

Finally nodding once, Hotch relented. "Fair warning, Dave. You're gonna be pissed…whether or not you really care about her or not," Hotch replied heavily, leaning against the door.

"I'm gonna be MORE pissed if you don't find your point. Quickly," Dave snapped, pacing along the edge of his bed.

"You remember when I took a week's leave unexpectedly a year ago?" Hotch began slowly, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "You had to take lead on the case in Wyoming?"

"Yeah, but what the hell does a serial kidnapper in the middle of ranching country have to do with any of this?" Rossi said sharply, waving his hand in the general direction of his room.

"The case doesn't, but the timing does," Hotch explained, his normally staid expression growing darker by the second. Nodding toward the closed bathroom door, Hotch said slowly, "I had to take the time because Lizzie was in the hospital back in Georgia. In ICU, in fact."

His eyes narrowing quickly, Rossi bunched his fists at his side as he felt anger rising in his chest, mixed with a healthy dose of fear. "What do you mean, ICU? Spit it out, man. What or who put her there?"

"A son of a bitch named Billy Bartane," Hotch answered simply, his words clipped as he took a deep breath, the memories from those days coloring his words. "You sure you want to know the details, Dave? I know you, and I know that you're not exactly…."

"Let me judge what I can and can't handle, Hotch," Rossi said as calmly as he possibly could, holding a hand in the air. "Talk. I want details, now."

"All I knew when I left DC that week was that Lizzie had been injured and that my family needed my assistance in helping her," Hotch explained, sighing. "It wasn't until I got to Piermont that I got the whole story. She had been raped, Dave. And her assailant had banged her up pretty badly, breaking a few ribs in the process. The local doctors were erring to the side of caution, but she was in bad shape."

Staring at the younger man, Rossi said, grimly, "Where is the bastard now, Aaron? Where?"

"Serving three to five in the state prison outside of Savannah," Hotch replied matter-of-factly.

"He raped her, put her in intensive care, and he's probably gonna get out in 18 months on good behavior?" Rossi roared, his ire eating away as he slammed his wall, then started pacing at the foot of his bed. "How in the hell….."

"Local prosecutor let him plead to a lesser charge in exchange for a reduced sentence," Hotch said, shifting against the wall as he kept his eyes trained on his coworker.

And as Aaron Hotchner watched Dave's face mottle with rage, one thought crossed his mind. Hell might hath no fury like a woman scorned, but no one could match the wrath of David Rossi when he went on the warpath.


	25. Chapter 25

**_Author's Note: Hey, guys! Don't forget to get your nominations in for the CMFanfic Awards! There's a link on my profile page for those of you that need it! It's a great way to let your favorite stories by recognized! Ballots are due by Friday 1/22/10 by 11:59 pm!_**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

"That's it?" Dave yelled, then winced, reminding himself to keep his voice down as he suddenly realized Lizzie was just a closed door away.

"That's it. At any rate, after she got released from the hospital, she was traumatized. Hell, she didn't leave the house for over a month. And when she did, she felt like everyone was staring at her. Which, in Piermont, it's a safe bet that they were. Everybody knows everybody else's business," Aaron explained, his jaw clenching as he remembered those dark days. "And Lizzie wasn't any different. It was killing her. So, when the position at the office came open, I thought it was a perfect fit for her. Far enough away from all the whispers to allow her to get on with her life and still close to someone who cared about her." Genuinely smiling for the first time, albeit barely, he added, "And it didn't take long for Lizzie to worm her way into all the team's heart."

"No, it didn't," Dave muttered, grabbing his shirt from the foot of the bed. Ramming his arms into it, fists punching through the fabric, he glared at Hotch. "YOU should have told me! Do you know how long I've spent antagonizing her?"

"Hell, Dave, that's your default position," Hotch grunted, ignoring that concern as he let his shoulders relax slightly. "Lizzie knows that."

"I wouldn't have been such an ass if I'd KNOWN any of this, damn it!" Dave exploded, hands thrown in the air as he stalked around his room, casting dark glances toward the closed bath door.

"You don't GET it," Hotch replied, shaking his dark head. "She doesn't WANT anybody to treat her different. That's why she left Georgia! To get away from the controversy and the constant interruptions to her life. DC was supposed to be a refuge."

Dropping to the edge of his bed, Dave shook his head as he stared at the wall. "NOTHING happened, Aaron," Dave said quietly, his mind reeling as he realized the trauma that amazing woman had experienced. Then AND now.

"Explain that to Lizzie's conscience and my uncle's ears," Hotch muttered, avoiding glancing at the unmade bed again.

"Shit," Dave muttered, rubbing a heavy hand over his beard, trying to determine exactly why he was feeling the way he was. Dammit, he was not nineteen any more. Was he? "There's only one way to fix this."

"I'm all ears, Dave," Hotch replied heavily, his stance firm as he kept his eyes trained on his coworker and cause of his current headache.

But before Rossi could reply, they both heard the slight catch of the door latch as the bathroom door opened slowly. Watching as an unnaturally silent Elizabeth Winstead took a step back into the room, Rossi tried to control his anger as he imagined someone touching her in violence, causing such horror to her. Forcing his voice to remain even, he asked, calmly, "Everything okay, Lizzie?"

But instead of answering him, she just shook her head, red curls spilling in every direction. Finally raising her head, she looked around the room, her face literally dropping as she realized that her father was no longer present. Tugging the blanket tighter, she whispered, "Aaron, where's Daddy?"

"He stepped back to the hotel for a bit, Lizzie," Hotch said calmly, taking a step in her direction. "We'll meet up with him later, when things have settled down a bit."

Closing her eyes, she pressed a hand to her chest as she murmured, dejectedly, "He must hate me, Cousin Aaron. I've never seen him so angry since…." Her words trailed off as she dropped her eyes to the ground again, her stomach rolling even as she tried to steel her nerves.

"Lizzie, there's no need to worry about that," Hotch started, reaching out to touch her bent shoulder, memories of her as a animated, laughing child suddenly invading his mind.

Unable to watch this normally vibrant ray of sunshine reduced to a mere shell of herself, Rossi stood, his steps eating the distance between them quickly. Standing directly in front of her, he asked her softly, "Lizzie, what do you want right now? What would make all of this better?"

"What I want, I can't have," she replied woodenly, a tone of unexpected bitterness coloring her words. Never looking up, her gaze firmly on the thick carpet in Rossi's bedroom, she added, "I'm a fallen woman, and I'll never regain my daddy's respect."

"Lizzie, I'm certain there are avenues we can take to fix this," Hotch interrupted, darting an inquisitive glance in Rossi's direction.

"Aaron's right, Lizzie," Rossi agreed, feeling some of the weight lift from his shoulders as she finally raised her eyes. Getting his first good look at her face, he couldn't help but wince, the tear tracks evident on her paler-than-normal skin, her eyes seeming to have sunk into their sockets in just these past few minutes, the life faded from her gaze. Knowing that what he was about to say would seal his destiny for far longer than just this mere lifetime, Rossi felt the words slip from his mouth before his mind completely comprehended them. But at that moment, all he cared about was making her smile again.

"Elizabeth Winstead, will you marry me?"

Cocking her head as she heard the words slip quietly from his mouth, Lizzie shook her head dumbly, looking over her shoulder at Aaron. "Did daddy hit him in the head?" Lizzie whispered loudly.

"Not that I saw," Aaron said, staring at Dave in shock, his jaw dropping. "Dave, what are you…"

Holding up a hand, Dave shook his head as he stared at Lizzie's pale face. "First, there's nothing fallen about you. Second, while I personally don't need nor want your father's approval, I know you do. If this is what'll make this right in his and your eyes, then this is what we'll do. It's up to you."

"Y-you don't want to marry me," Lizzie said, stumbling backward, her brow furrowing as she stammered. "Y-you have no idea…you d-don't know w-what…"

"Lizzie," Hotch said softly from the doorway, "He knows everything."

"Huh?" Lizzie said dumbly, staring wide-eyed at Hotch, her overworked mind unable to comprehend anything whatsoever.

"I told him, Lizzie," Hotch stated quietly, his eyes speaking volumes as he nodded slowly. "About everything."

"You can't hold water worth a dickens, you know that?" Lizzie muttered, tightening the comforter around her shoulders, trying to hide herself once again as she realized what her cousin was trying to say.

"Translation, please," Dave sighed with a look at Aaron, once again wondering if he should hire a full-time interpreter.

"I never could keep a secret," Hotch said with a slight smile, cocking his head as he kept his eyes on his younger cousin.

"Now, why the hell couldn't you just say THAT, Lizzie?" Dave grumbled in exasperation, turning back to face the woman he had just proposed to. "I understood THAT!"

Ignoring him, Lizzie shook her head again, flabbergasted. "The very idea…it's not worth the powder to blow it to hell."

"It's a very sound idea," Dave countered, straightening to his full height as he moved closer to this tiny Southern spitfire. Damn, how in the world had he allowed himself to develop FEELINGS for her? He had been so careful, hadn't he?

"Yes," Lizzie said sweetly, cocking her head to the side. "Because you're such a good marital risk, Agent Rossi."

"I've made mistakes in the past, Lizzie, but I'm willing to risk it if you are, honey," Dave said calmly, his dark eyes never wavering as he waited on her answer.

"I hate to agree with him, Lizzie," Hotch said slowly, his eyes moving from his cousin to his friend, "But this might let you kill two birds with one stone."

"Oh God, please. No animal references before sunrise!" Rossi moaned, pressing a hand to his forehead.


	26. Chapter 26

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

"Seriously, Dave," Hotch muttered, throwing a dark look in his direction, "lower the dramatics. We're trying to convince Lizzie to marry you, not have you committed to the nearest psychiatric ward, aren't we?"

Interrupting, Lizzie turned to face her cousin as she asked, interested in a strange, weird way that she couldn't explain to herself let alone anyone else, "What are you saying, Cousin? Are you actually agreein' that this harebrained scheme would hold water?"

"I'm saying that it might solve more than one problem," Hotch answered confidently, plastering a reassuring smile on his face as he looked at his young cousin. "A marriage would satisfy your father's need to protect your honor, and it would also keep him from dragging you back to Georgia. Which, I do believe, he is firmly intending on doing as soon as he calms down enough to think straight."

Staring at him like he had grown a second head, Lizzie whispered, confused, "Are you daft? You can't be suggestin' that I commit to spend the rest of my life with this …this…."

"Man who wants to marry you," Rossi answered for her, cocking an eyebrow as he watched her swing her head erratically in his direction. "And right now, Lizzie, I'm the only one here asking. Why, I'm not really sure, but I'm sure I'll have time to figure that out between now and the wedding."

"You're already talkin' like it's set in stone," Lizzie moaned, pressing a hand to her head, wincing as she hit the small bump on her forehead. Closing her eyes, she tried to make sense of this strange turn of events, but suddenly, she completely understood how that prissy Alice had felt when she stupidly fell down that rabbit hole.

"All you have to say is yes, Elizabeth, and I'm sure Hotch can get us set up with a Justice of the Peace," Rossi said confidently, reaching out to sweep her fingers away from her forehead as he examined the bump. Satisfied that it wasn't any worse, he said, softly, "And you won't have anything else to worry about. Nobody else is going to hurt you, ever."

Flicking open one eye to look from one determined man to the other, Lizzie muttered, darkly, "You're both nuttier that Aunt Mabelline's fruitcake."

"And trust me," Hotch sighed with a look at Dave, "that sucker's loaded with nuts."

Ignoring everything but the woman currently dragging his comforter around her body like a shield as she paced the bedroom, Rossi shook his head, refusing to be drawn into yet another drawn-out tutelage in the world of Southern expressions. "That's not an answer, Elizabeth Grace."

Flashing him a mutinous look, her full lips pressed tight, Lizzie snapped crossly, "Quit middle namin' me, you bear! You aren't my husband yet!"

"Yet?" Dave echoed, releasing a sigh of relief. "She said yet, didn't she?" he asked Hotch, needing verification that he had not lost what was left of his frazzled mind. Seeing Hotch slight nod, Dave clarified, "The word yet implies our marriage is an eventuality, Lizzie."

"Yes, it will eventually kill you," Lizzie retorted crossly, tucking the drooping comforter closer as she felt a draft of air slide under the edge. "And when that happens, you just remember who asked who to do it!"

"I have full faith that we'll come through this alive and well, honey," Rossi said confidently, not bothering to examine exactly why he suddenly felt relieved that she had agreed to become his wife. Hell, he had been through this three times before, but he couldn't remember this exact feeling. Chalking it up to the surprise of the moment, he forced his thoughts back to the present as he said, looking down at her makeshift robe, "Why don't Hotch and I step out in the hallway while you get dressed? We can discuss the particulars over breakfast as soon as you're ready."

Trying to control the blush that suddenly hit her pale face again, Lizzie muttered, her eyes glancing futilely around the room, "I can't believe I have to ask this, but where exactly did my blouse run off to?"

Arching one eyebrow, Hotch carefully reached for the bunched up piece of clothing, rescuing it from its hiding place beside Rossi's dresser. Holding it out to Lizzie on the tip of one finger, he said, evenly, "I believe this is what you're looking for, correct?"

Grabbing the item from her cousin's hand, Lizzie muttered darkly, "If this is the way a marriage starts, I'd hate to see what a divorce looks like." Seeing Rossi start to open his mouth, she slammed her palm against his lips as she threatened, "And I don't wanna hear your answer to that question. New rule in this relationship, Dave. No talk whatsoever of those previous women that carried your name, do you hear me?"

Wrapping a gentle hand around hers as he pulled it from his face, Rossi said with a grin, "Whatever you say, dear."

"Don't dear me, you addlepated jackass," Lizzie growled, pulling her hand from his grip. "And quit looking like the cat that drowned in the milk bucket." Turning regally away from the two men who had just decided her fate, she pointed toward the door as she ordered, "Now, out. I gotta make a silk purse out of this sow's ear, and I don't need your help doin' it."

His forehead furrowing, Rossi asked, bemused, "What the hell does that mean, woman?"

But the tiny woman merely ignored him as she pushed them both toward the door, slamming it behind them. Stepping out into the long hallway, Hotch couldn't resist needling Rossi just a bit. "And it appears we're off to the races. May the best man win."

**~*~**

Ten minutes later, staring at Dave across the expanse of his large kitchen, Hotch asked quietly, "You sure about this, Dave?"

Reaching into the cabinet and pulling down three coffee mugs, Dave shook his head. "The only thing I'm entirely convinced of is that I don't think I could live with myself if something else happened to her…especially because of me. Not now that I know everything."

"A marriage based on pity is doomed to failure," Hotch grumbled, stuffing a hand in his pocket.

"Why, thank you, Mr. Matrimony for your valued advice," Dave retorted sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he glared at his long-time friend.

"All I'm saying is that my cousin deserves a loving, faithful, devoted husband. And, no offense, Dave, but that ain't you," Hotch snorted, memories of this man's three previous wives and three previous divorces dancing in his head.

"Seriously, Hotch, your support is overwhelming," Dave replied, eyeing the younger man dangerously. "I didn't exactly hear YOU tossing out alternatives upstairs."

"You have to admit that this entire situation hasn't exactly lent itself to rational thinking," Hotch returned calmly, settling on the edge of one of the wooden barstools surrounding the kitchen island. "Honestly, I'm surprised any resolution was reached whatsoever."

"And whose fault is that?" Rossi snorted, dropping the ground beans into the basket as he flicked the switch to load the water, the heated smell of rich roasted coffee suddenly filling the room. "What the hell were you thinking, bursting in like the Cartwright boys? You're damn lucky you and the old man weren't shot on sight."

"You didn't answer the door bell, Dave, and I wasn't exactly going to keep my worried uncle standing on your front porch getting ideas in his mind about the continued health and safety of his only daughter," Hotch shot back, then paused, frowning, "Although I have to say that the reality of the situation seemed to be worse than his imagination."

"Again, Hotch," Rossi said with a sigh, leaning back against the counter, "Nothing happened. And if her father had hung around to actually talk to his daughter rather than rashly accuse her, then he might have realized that very fact. Damn, Aaron, what type of family are you from?"

"It's about to be your family, too, Dave," Hotch replied, cocking one eyebrow as he shook his head. Sighing resolutely, he stated, his voice firm, "Well, what's done is done, and all we can do now is move forward from this point."


	27. Chapter 27

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

Sixteen hours later, moving forward was exactly what Elizabeth Winstead was doing. With unbridled pleasure. And if she had her way, this was going to be a night to remember.

At exactly seven o'clock on the dot, David Rossi stood outside her apartment door, muttering darkly as he leaned on the plastic doorbell, the thin cover crunching beneath his finger. But the longer he pushed and the louder he muttered, nothing happened. No opening door. No rushing footsteps in his direction. No laughing Southern drawl yelling at him to hold his horses, whatever that meant.

Finally giving up on the ringing bell, he slammed his fist against the metal security door, the sound ringing through the open courtyard. Glancing around at the other apartments, he half expected to see her neighbors poking out their heads any time now. But after a short pause, he suddenly heard shuffling on the other side, and a series of clicks. And when the door swung open, he snapped his dark eyes to the woman he was going to marry as he said in way of greeting, "Damn it, Lizzie, took you long enough. What the hell were you doing?"

"Ignoring you," she said archly, pushing her long curls over her shoulder as she turned back around quickly, moving down a short hallway. Slamming the door behind him, Rossi carefully slipped the locks into place before he turned to follow her, unable to ignore the sway of her full hips. Even in a worn sweatshirt three times too big for her small frame and jogging pants meant for someone half a foot taller than her, she had a body that would draw the attention of any red-blooded American male. Including him.

"Quit staring at my rear, Agent Rossi," Lizzie said sharply over her shoulder as she plopped down on an upholstered couch, tucking her legs under her Indian style as she reached for the pint-size container of ice cream sitting on the wooden coffee table. Unable to keep his eyes from widening, Rossi took in the eclectic assortment of items on her table and couch as he said, calmly, "I'm sensing that someone's having a party. Celebrating, are we?"

Stuffing a spoonful of Rocky Road into her mouth, Lizzie swallowed quickly as she motioned with her spoon toward the clear glass bottle sitting on the edge of the table. "Try to be more useful than a knot on a log, and hand me that, will you?"

Scooting the bottle just out of her reach, Rossi dropped down on the couch next to her as he said, firmly, "I don't think mixing vodka with your dessert's a good idea, honey. And since when do you drink?"

"Since I've been labeled the worst sinner since God sent fire down from heaven to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah," she said brightly, her voice catching slightly on the last word, causing her to quickly swallow another bite. Letting the ice cream sooth her, she added, calmly, "If I'm going to be a sinner, I'm going to be the best there is. Mama always said to try to do your best, you know, and I'd hate to let her down now."

Waving his hand toward the table, Rossi said, incredulously, "And that means that you're going to imbibe in all of these vices in one night?" May God have mercy on his soul…and her small liver…if she succeeded!

"I'm livin' on borrowed time," Lizzie said around a mouthful of ice cream, wrinkling her nose as she used one hand to reach for the bottle of Kahlua that sat within her reach. Twisting the top carefully, she eyed the small bottle, then turned it upside down.

Watching as the young beauty on the couch added a liberal amount of the alcohol to the ice cream concoction in her bowl, Dave winced as he said, sternly, "You're getting married, Elizabeth, not dying."

"Same difference," Lizzie muttered, stirring the liquor aggressively into the ice cream and popping another spoonful into her mouth. "Yep," she nodded with a grim smile, "the Kahlua is ten times better with the Rocky Road than the rum was. Gotta remember that when I get the Cherry Garcia out of the freezer."

Looking at the wide assortment of airline travel sized liquor containers littering her coffee table, Dave silently groaned. Turning dark eyes to face her, he asked, seriously, "Exactly how much alcohol have you added to that pint of ice cream, Lizzie?"

"Not nearly enough," Lizzie declared, shoveling the concoction in her mouth at faster intervals, her fingers tightening against her spoon as she cast a sideways glance in his direction. "I can still see and hear you."

Sighing loudly, Dave reached for the bowl in her tiny hands only to grimace painfully as her spoon connected with his knuckles with expert precision. "Damn it, Lizzie, you've had enough," he growled, glaring at her then at her coffee table, which was currently doubling as a well-stocked liquor cabinet.

"You make a grab for my bowl again, and I'll show you enough! I swear to the Almighty, I'm gonna slap you like a red-headed stepchild!" Lizzie threatened, clenching her fingers around the bowl in her hands protectively, cuddling it closer to her chest as she shoved another spoonful in her mouth. "I've gotta lot of livin' to do in a short amount of time, Agent Rossi! And I'm gonna have to hotfoot it to get it all done as it is."

Looking around the living room, Dave shook his head, sighing. Somehow, her comfortable, homey space had become a pleasure-seeker's playground. "So you're trying to experiment with every vice known to man?" Picking up an opened pack of cigarettes from the floor, he waved them in her face. "Smoking, Lizzie?" he asked angrily, crinkling the plastic coating as he crushed his fingers around the small box.

Wrinkling her nose at the memory of that little adventure, she shook her head. "Didn't like that one. I took one puff and it made me cough for over an hour. They should put something on the package warnin' people about that, you know. So I moved on."

"I'm afraid to ask to what," Rossi snorted, throwing the crushed pack of cigarettes down on the table, hitting a DVD case as he did. Grabbing for the black label item just before it slid to the floor, he popped open the catch and stared down in surprise at the round disc. Turning to stare in her direction, he said, one eyebrow raised, "Porn, Elizabeth?"

"Tasteful porn," she corrected him as she stirred the slurpy mixture in the bottom of her bowl, spooning the delicious liquid onto her tongue. How had she missed this wonderful concoction for all these years, she thought idly as she swallowed.

"Honey, I hate to burst your bubble," Rossi said with a growing grin, wondering for a moment when the aliens had suddenly invaded his life and replaced this normally prim and proper woman with a hedonistic wannabe. Watching her face closely, he said, chuckling, "But Pulp Friction definitely doesn't meet that description. As a matter of fact, I'm not sure any porn can be described as tasteful."

Shrugging her shoulders, she swirled her spoon in the mixture as she turned back toward the assortment of bottles, reaching for another prime selection as she said, dismissively, "Well, that's what the gal at the tattoo parlor called it, ya know. She seemed to know what she was talkin' about, and we had plenty of time to chat while I was waitin' my turn."

"Tattoo parlor?" His jaw dropping as he caught the location of her porn distributor, his eyes scanned her body quickly as he reached for her arm, sliding up the sleeve angrily as he said, harshly, "You're kidding, right? Tell me you did not mar that perfect body of yours with a fucking tattoo!"


	28. Chapter 28

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

Jerking her arm back as she slammed the video case against his chest, Lizzie leveled a death glare on him as she tucked her ice cream bowl against her stomach, farther out of his reach. "Would you quit actin' like a bull in a china shop? You just about made me spill my ice cream, and I just got this concoction the way I want it!"

"Damn it, Elizabeth," Dave thundered, his hand resting heavily on the rise of the couch behind her head. "Answer my question?"

"Fine! What was it again?" Lizzie asked, frowning up at the man darkening her house, shifting the ice cream bowl as the cold seeped through her blouse and against her warm tummy.

"Did you get a tattoo?" Dave ground out, barely resisting the urge to wrap his arms around her and shake her until her teeth rattled. Or at least until he checked every inch of skin himself.

"Heavens, oh, wait…I mean, hell, no!" Lizzie frowned, nodding as she finally found the right expletive.. Leaning forward, she said, shuddering in memory, "I was gonna, but, did you know they do that with needles? Lots and lots of tiny needles all pokin' at the same time!"

"Oh, thank you, God," Dave groaned, running a shaky hand through his hair as he collapsed against the cushions. Christ, what other trouble has she managed to submerse herself into in the past few hours? For a tiny thing, she obviously moved fast.

"Oh, don't thank HIM," Lizzie muttered hatefully, her lips tightening around her spoon again. "HE hates me!"

"Lizzie, God will forgive you for whatever preconceived sins you think you've committed," Dave sighed, scooting closer on the couch beside her as he threw the porno back on the table.

"Of course He will," Lizzie nodded, shoving a scoop of ice cream between her pink lips again, her assurance at her former Sunday School lessons coming back to mind. "But first, he's gonna make sure I suffer. And if I'm gonna have to go through those trials and tribulations anyway, then I'm gonna make sure I have somethin' worth sufferin' for! Now, hand me my list!" she ordered, pointing at the table imperiously with her battered spoon.

Handing her the steno pad she pointed at, Dave frowned as he glanced down at the scribbles. "What the hell is that?" he asked, almost afraid of her answer.

"My list of sins to complete tonight," Lizzie informed him primly. "Alcohol, check. Cigarettes, check. Pornography, check. Tattoo parlor, check. Well, half a check," she said, reading down her list. "I at least went inside and that counts."

"What the heck is left?" Dave asked through his shock, tilting his head to lean over her shoulder, trying to decipher her writing, wondering if he had fallen into an alternate dimension where good girls suddenly go bad.

"Hmmm….well there's cursing," she said, dropping the pad into her lap, as she cocked her head and squinted her eye. "Shit! Damn! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she shouted. Stopping abruptly, she picked up her pad again. "Cursing, check." Glancing over at the dark-haired man beside her, she explained tightly, "I tried to use the least of the worst that have come out your mouth recently. No use aggravatin' God more than necessary."

"What the hell….?" Rossi said slowly, trying to read those normally stunning green eyes, but finding them almost completely closed off to his profiling skills.

"That only leaves the last one," she muttered as she shrugged, leaning forward to fish a business card off the table.

"What's that?" Dave asked with a shake of his head, trying to recover from the words she'd shouted in that cute prissy tone of hers moments before.

"Sex with a complete stranger," Lizzie nodded matter-of-factly, looking at her list. Turning her inquisitive gaze to Dave, she asked, "That's the one night stand, right? This man," she said, waving around the rumpled business card, "gave it to me last week while I was gettin' coffee at that Starbucks downstairs at work. I think he'll do."

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Rossi ground out, his thoughts unable to comprehend anything more than the fact that she was seriously considering this brainless idea. Grabbing the card quickly, Rossi tore it into tiny pieces as he glared at her, his voice bordering on rage as he yelled, "What in hell has gotten in to you? Sex with a stranger?"

"Oh, like you haven't done that a million times," Lizzie said, then looked down at the small pile of paper on the couch. Smacking him with her spoon again, she yelled, indignant, "Now how am I gonna call him? I hadn't memorized the number yet, and you've destroyed that card worse than that tornado took out the trailer park in Sneedville last year."

"I meant to destroy it, you little fool," Rossi said sternly, shaking his head as he reached for her hand just as she grabbed for another liquor bottle. "And I think it's last call for you."

Raising an eyebrow as she struggled to maintain her precarious hold on the petite bottle, Lizzie said with a grim grin, "That's okay. I still have the card from the guy runnin' the register at the tattoo parlor."

Letting loose of the bottle as he felt blood pressure rising by the second, Rossi growled, "Dammit, Lizzie, if you think I'm gonna let you…."

"Weren't you the man preachin' this morning that no man should control me? That I'm old enough to make my own decisions?" Not bothering to wait for his answer, Lizzie continued, tucking her hair up into a twisted pony tail as she said, smartly, "As I was saying, that man offered to help me act out any of those scenes in that movie, so I guess he's next on my list."

Reaching for her handwritten list on the table, Rossi snorted as he angrily ripped and crumpled the paper into a tight ball, bouncing it off the wall across the room. "That's what I think of your damn list, woman. Maybe your father's right. Maybe you do need a keeper."

"Oh, Lord in heaven, that has to be the final sign of the pendin' Rapture," Lizzie said with a moan, dropping her head back against the cushioned couch, staring at the speckled ceiling above her.

"What in the world are you talking about now?" Rossi asked with a decidedly impatient sigh, trying to wrest the bowl from her hand as he watched her tiny fingers opening another liquor bottle.

Smacking his fingers as she shifted her treat out of his reach, she turned back to him and said darkly, "You and my daddy agreein' on one bloomed thing! Talk about oil and water! I thought you two were gonna come to blows worse than the battle of Shiloh this afternoon at the hotel."

Dave shrugged, dropping back against her couch as he raised an eyebrow at her, measuring the battle. "You COULD sound a little more appreciative. After all, I WAS defending you and your honor at the time."

"How many times do I have to explain this to your hardheaded skull? My daddy is the patriarch of the Winstead clan! You do NOT argue with the patriarch!" Lizzie hissed, looking at him like he had the intelligence of a toad frog.

"Well, in that case, don't you think the patriarch is gonna have a few things to say about this little extravaganza of yours, Elizabeth?" Dave asked heavily, looking around the room with critical eyes.

Where, oh where, had his perfect little Lizzie gone? And who the hell was this outraged pod-person left in her place?


	29. Chapter 29

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

"Listen here," Lizzie retorted sharply, jabbing a finger against his solid chest, "I've spent my entire twenty-six years bein' a good girl! Bein' the dutiful daughter, servin' the Lord the best way I could…and in one night…one stupid night, I had the rug jerked out from under me! My whole life turned topsy turvy! I've earned the right to try bein' bad!"

Surrounding her punishing finger with a gentle hand, Dave shook his head. "That's not who you are, Lizzie. And bad girls aren't all they're cracked up to be."

"Really? Lana sounded like she had a good time bein' bad…or are you forgettin' I was there for that little phone call?" Lizzie asked petulantly, jerking her hand away from his as she reached for her spoon again. "And the way I figure it, if you can fly fast and loose with a girl like that, I can call my tattoo man!"

"Dammit, woman, have you not listened to a word I've said?" Rossi grumbled, leaning back into the soft cushions as he slid an arm over the back of the sofa, barely resisting the urge to strangle the woman beside him. "Lana's in my past. I didn't call her, she called me. And I have no intentions of returning her call. That type of woman doesn't appeal to me anymore."

"But she obviously did once upon a time, and I wanna know why," Lizzie snapped out, her lower bottom lip puffed out as she scooted away from his touch. "And I wanna do everything I can before I start my life-long sentence."

"Honey, do you really think being married to me is going to be a stint in the big house?" Rossi asked, dropping a hand against her hair, twining a strand around his finger.

Jerking away, she pushed his fingers away as she nodded her head rapidly. "Why do you think it's called a ball and chain? It's obviously not meant to be a pleasurable experience, Dave!"

Trying not to notice how he happy he felt hearing his name on her lips, he replied, softly, "But it can be, Lizzie, if the husband and wife work at it."

"Is that how it was for your …wait, what was it? THREE marriages?" Lizzie said sweetly, shoving a bite of melted ice cream and Kahlua mixture into her mouth as she waited expectantly for his answer. But before he could respond, she muttered, "Daddy didn't seem to think those ex-wives of yours were stunning stars in your sky, you know. I don't know how Cousin Aaron got him to move on when that subject came up. I thought for sure Daddy's steak was gonna come aflyin' across the table and land on your fool head."

"Hotch is a gifted attorney, Lizzie, and he's more than capable of sidestepping around any situation," Dave replied, shuddering as he remembered the scene that afternoon at the elder Winstead's hotel. "And yes, parts of my marriages were pleasant. Overall, they weren't anything I'd want to repeat, but I have a feeling that our life together is going to be different. I want it to be different, honey."

"Want in one hand, spit in the other, and see which gets full fastest," Lizzie directed quickly, scraping her spoon against the bottom of her now empty bowl and frowning. "I need more ice cream," she grumbled darkly. "And liquor. Lots more liquor," she nodded, moving to get up.

"I don't think so, Lizzie. You and I were having a meaningful discussion about our future," Dave reminded her gently, wrapping gentle fingers around her wrist as she tried to escape the couch.

"Nuh uh," Lizzie grunted, pinching his palm as she pulled away. "What you was fixin' to do is explain to me why exactly I can't have tattoo man when you've got your little trollops linin' up round the corner to come pay a call."

"Nobody is paying me any visits, Lizzie. I believe that's the fourteenth time I've told you that today," Dave replied, struggling for patience. Other than drawing this stubborn woman a picture, he wasn't sure anymore what would satisfy these worries of hers.

"Why don't I believe you?" Lizzie drawled sarcastically. Snapping her fingers, her eyes widened as she bit out, "I know! It's those three little marriages that you've got up your sleeve, you philanderer." Shaking her head, she flopped back against the couch. "I just can't go through with it. Cheaters never prosper….they only make their poor wives pay for their mistakes!"

"Honey, there's a few things you probably need to know about me before we tie the knot. One, I sleep on the left side of the bed. Two, I don't respond very well whenever someone calls me a liar, thief, or cheater," Rossi said almost pleasantly, his onyx eyes growing darker by the moment.

"You tellin' me that you didn't step out on those poor women bearin' your name?" Lizzie asked, doubt coloring her every word. Rattling her spoon in her empty bowl, she said with a short laugh, "You better stand on the other side of the room, cause I don't wanna be hit when the lightning strike gets you. God ain't real fond of idiots who bear false witness, you know."

"Do I look like I'm kidding, Lizzie?" Rossi asked evenly, his eyes staring down at hers as he waited for her to respond.

Flicking her eyes up to his, blinking as she brought everything into focus, she wondered for a moment if he could actually see into her very soul. Those dark eyes of his just seemed to draw her closer and closer, like the Devil himself. Twisting her mouth from side to side, she finally said, slowly, "You telling me you just happened to pick three of the worst choices in the whole US of A? That you didn't do nothin' to make 'em run off? You're forgettin', Dave, I heard those stories about your….what did Penelope call them?" She asked herself, tapping a finger against her cheek. "Oh, yeah. Shenanigans."

"My shenanigans were in between and after any of my marriages," Rossi answered, reminding himself to have a conversation with a certain technical genius sometime in the near future. "And I didn't say I was a perfect husband, just that I didn't cheat. Once I put a ring on a woman's finger, I don't stray. Too bad I can't say that about my second wife, though."

Pursing her lips, Lizzie slowly blinked as she studied the man sitting on her couch, debating the wisdom of allowing herself to believe his easily spoken words. "Marriage is supposed to be forever," she finally said, picking at the cotton material of her leggings. "I was raised to believe that once the gold band went on the third finger of the left hand, it didn't come off. You've taken one off three times. What makes me think you'd leave mine on, David Rossi?"


	30. Chapter 30

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Thirty**

Sighing, Dave nodded, feeling her words hit him in the stomach. "I can't deny my past, Lizzie. And I'm not gonna bother to try to justify my actions. It wouldn't serve any purpose. But I will say this, it takes two people to make a marriage work and two people to break one up. I didn't do anything all by myself. Try to keep that in mind when you're throwing around your accusations," he said with quiet dignity, his face set in stone as he stared into her eyes.

Releasing the breath she'd been holding, blowing it through her nose in a steady stream, Lizzie slowly shook her head, his words coming as a surprise. "I'm sorry. I really am. I know I'm not bein' entirely fair…but I still can't figure why you're so determined to hitch yourself to my cart. Trust me when I tell you that I'm nobody's prize." Looking away, she mumbled, her fingers clenching against the edge of her bowl, "You know I'm soiled."

Hand tightening into a fist where it rested against the back of the couch, Dave's face tightened at her quiet, heavy words. And the look on her face…that shattered look of complete dissolution…. That was enough to nearly drive him mad. Taking a deep breath, he said with slow deliberate authority, "Listen closely, Elizabeth. I don't ever want to hear those words out of your mouth ever again."

"Not sayin' them don't make 'em less true," Lizzie muttered, as she averted her eyes away from him when she felt his glittering eyes watching her face. His scrutiny was too much to bear, too nerve-wracking at that moment.

"Thinking them at all only serves to give them value, Elizabeth. And those thoughts are not worth the time it takes to think them," he said, attempting to bite back the anger that was coursing through him, but failing. "You were a victim. You were horribly harmed because of no fault of your own, do you hear me? That does not, in anybody's damn world, make you soiled or damaged."

"You're just sayin' that cause you're stuck with me now," Lizzie whispered, drawing her knees up to her chest, her ice cream long forgotten as she slid the bowl on the couch beside her. Shrugging as she stuffed her now-cold hands underneath her oversized shirt, she muttered, "You'll change your mind. You'll look at me different. Men always do when they…"

"Would you please quit putting words in my mouth?" Rossi snapped out angrily, unable to withhold the rage that he was feeling as he watched her suffer even more.

But when he watched the small Southerner wince at his sharp words, he knew that he had made a colossal mistake.

Reaching out a tentative hand, he tried to touch her cheek, only to have her shy away, to turn her head. "Lizzie, honey…."

"See, even you're madder'n a wet cat in a dishtub," she whispered, trying to tuck herself tighter into a ball, trying to protect herself from everything at once. Why, oh, why, she asked herself dejectedly, had she ever agreed to Cousin Aaron's suggestion to come to this Godforsaken place in the first place? "You're just like Daddy. He wouldn't even look at me after that man….after he…."

Eyes narrowing as he watched her shiver, her words trailing off into nothingness, Rossi said as softly as possible, "Elizabeth, listen to me. I am in no way mad at you."

"You're lyin, Agent Rossi. I heard you," she said tremulously, trying to ignore the tears threatening to fall. Why had she let this overgrown bear get to her so easily? What was it about him specifically that made her want to like him, wanted him to understand?

"I'm mad, honey, but not at you," Rossi clarified, adding in a dark mutter, "And if I could get my hands on that fucking bastard that hurt you, I wouldn't be interested in making sure he made it to trial. Death is all he deserves, do you hear me?"

"He'll be out soon," Lizzie said distractedly, almost in a daze, her mind sliding away from her control as she tried to force it back, tried to keep from going back to those horrible moments.

"And he'll never hurt you again, no matter where he is," Rossi said with great conviction, finally letting out a small sigh of relief when she raised her head, slowly, her green eyes heavy with pain as she looked at him.

Her eyes roaming his face, trying to read something, anything, in that stone expression he seemed to always wear, she asked, hoarsely, "Why are you doing this? You don't even know me, and…."

"I do so know you. And honestly?" He replied, knowing that he couldn't give her less than the truth now, not willing to start their relationship based on a lie. "I'm not completely sure why I suggested this. All I know is that I feel something for you, woman, in spite of myself. And I'll be damned if anyone, not even your father, will ever treat you like less than the beautiful woman you are."

"Don't you dare go feelin' sorry for me," Lizzie snapped, her voice breaking as she swallowed hard, ignoring the feeling of warmth that spread through her at his words. "I can't abide pity, and if that's…."

"Trust me, honey," Rossi said with a small grin, happy to see some of the spitfire returning to her attitude, "The last thing I feel for you is pity. Most of the time, you make me want to dangle you upside down by your feet just to see if I can drop some sense into that hard head of yours."

"Pot, meet kettle," Lizzie retorted with a ladylike sniff, untwining her fingers as she straightened slightly. Eyes finding his again, Lizzie tilted her head, "Why are you here anyway?"

Relieved to see some color seeping back into her washed out cheeks, Dave sighed, "Well, originally I thought we might discuss our upcoming nuptials. Unfortunately, you distracted me with this pity party you decided to throw for yourself," he said with a pointed look at her littered coffee table. "Are we done with that yet, Babe?"

"Wasn't a pity party," Lizzie replied tartly, sliding her bare foot out to rest on the edge of the table. "It was a sin party…and you ruined it," she accused, rolling her eyes.

"So sorry. My apologies," Dave replied in a tone that said he clearly wasn't sorry for anything. "But I might point out that any sinning you do from this point forward ought to involve your imminent husband. Not your tattoo man, as you put it," Dave clarified, his voice hard as his eyes glittered determinedly at her.

"Sinnin' with you is what got me in to this fine kettle of fish," Lizzie grumbled, those thoughts from the night before playing on the edges of her memory.

Grinning slightly, his mind remembering his own version of events, Dave shook his head. "Lizzie, honey, I haven't even begun to introduce you to my sinful nature."

Straightening her slim shoulder, Lizzie shook her head. "And I never intend to make its acquaintance, sir." Clearing her throat, she met his eyes. "You, David Rossi, are turnin' over a brand spankin' new leaf. I insist."

"It appears that there's a few things we still need to work out before the prenup," Rossi said with a definite glare, sweeping his hand against her bright hair.


	31. Chapter 31

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Thirty-One**

"A prenup? What in the name of tarnation are you talking about?" Lizzie asked, turning confused eyes to his as she dropped the ruined container of ice cream down on the table, knocking the last remaining bottle to the floor.

"A prenup, Lizzie," Rossi said, leaning back against the couch, twirling a finger around one of her curls. "As in a prenuptial agreement."

"You've lost me, Agent Rossi," Lizzie said with a shrug of shoulders, subconsciously leaning into his touch, his warmth.

"It appears there're quite a few things about marriage that we're going to be talking about. A prenup's just a legal agreement between a husband and a wife, detailing what each person brings into the marriage and what each person leaves the marriage with. Each party signs off on it, and it's a binding agreement," Rossi explained easily, then added, warmly, "But it's merely a formality for my lawyers, honey. It's just…"

"Wait just a minute," Lizzie said slowly, his explanation seeping into her liquor and sugar addled mind. Narrowing her bleary eyes, she asked, suspiciously, "What do you mean, leave the marriage? The only way a marriage ends is when the husband or wife makes that final trip to Gloryland, and I have it on good authority that God don't allow no Uhauls, so this part about taking stuff from the marriage…."

"Honey, it's a formality to cover us both just in case the marriage ends, in any way. That's all," Rossi interrupted, cursing himself for even bringing the subject up, especially now. God only knew what this stubborn pain in his ass was going to make of this topic. Staring down into her eyes, he could almost see the wheels turning as she processed the information. And when he saw those eyes darken and her shoulders stiffen, he knew that he had definitely stepped in over his head.

"Wait just a goll durned minute!" Lizzie yelped, her feet hitting the floor as she smacked a harsh hand against his chest. "You're sayin' you want me to put my name on a piece of paper plannin' for our divorce before we even tie the knot!"

"Lizzie, it's a protective measure for both of us," Dave soothed, sitting up a little straighter in his seat as he suddenly noticed the fire burning in her eyes. Now, this was more like it. This was the woman he knew.

"You want me to sign a slip of paper givin' us permission to get a divorce!" Lizzie accused, her voice rising by progressive octaves with each word.

"Lizzie, I've been down the aisle three times…after getting burned after the first trip, I learned to take precautions. My financial advisors insisted on it," he explained, watching as her frown deepened and her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I'm not puttin' my John Hancock on a blessed thing that plans on a divorce. We don't DO divorce in our family. Ever. You just suffer right on through it; mama says so!" Lizzie argued vehemently, shaking her red curls with increased anger.

"Honey, in the event our marriage didn't work out, I'd provide you with a healthy financial settlement," Dave said, defending himself. Or so he thought he was. Obviously, by the look of sheer disbelief on her face, his fiancée doubted his words.

"It's not about money…it's about faith and loyalty! That piece of paper that you're talkin bout will say that we don't think we'll make a go of it!" Lizzie retorted angrily, crossing her hands over her chest as she glared at him.

"No," Dave said calmly, shaking his head as he smiled reassuringly, "it just gives us both a small measure of protection if it doesn't."

"I ain't signin' it," Lizzie said, curls swinging as she shook her head quickly. "I'm not signin' a piece of paper that says I plan on breakin' another rule in the Bible. I'm in enough trouble with God. And I'd reckon you are too, after three divorces!"

"It's those three divorces that make this necessary," Rossi replied, wondering if he was ever going to make her see reason. Suddenly thinking of another tact, he added, convincingly, "And Aaron's drawn up many of them. I even think that he and Haley had one."

"And look where that got 'em, into divorce court and out of God's will," Lizzie said determinedly, curling her fingers around his lapel as she pulled him closer. Staring into his eyes, she declared, doggedly, "I ain't signing something that says I don't before I say I do. It just ain't done."

"I'm sure there's some form of rational reasoning hidden in that statement, but you'll have to give me a minute to find it," Rossi said with a sigh, wrapping his hand around hers as he eased her grip. Keeping her hand tucked in his, he dropped them to his leg as he said, "How about we discuss this topic later, Lizzie? I'm sure there's many other things we can find to occupy our time tonight."

"Don't think I'm going to forget this, you deceitful scoundrel," Lizzie said darkly, staring into his dark eyes, unable to resist staring just a little longer than necessary. Finally jerking her eyes away, she muttered, "I'm gonna keep you on the straight and narrow if it kills you, do you hear me?"

"That's what I'm afraid of," Rossi growled, pulling their joined hands closer as he settled them both deeper against the cushions. Popping her chin lightly with his index finger, he smiled as he said,"Look, Lizzie, right now I just want us to worry about the actual wedding, okay? The marriage will take care of itself. As for the wedding, I can have things in place in a couple of days and arrange for a priest to perform the ceremony."

"A priest? You mean one of those fellers who wear those white things on their collars?" Lizzie asked, perplexed, pulling away as she turned to face him better.

Shrugging, he added, "Or a Justice of the Peace if you prefer. We can get married at the courthouse, but I had assumed you want to get married in a church, so…."

"I am getting married in a church with a real preacher, Dave," Lizzie said emphatically, turning her face up to his as she added, firmly, "A real church. My church. At home in Piermont."

"What?" Dave retorted quickly, alarmed as he realized just how serious his soon-to-be bride was. "Lizzie, I really don't think…"

"There's a shocker," Lizzie muttered sarcastically, wondering for the umpteenth time how she had allowed her life to reach this point with this obviously dense man. Raising her chin defiantly, Lizzie shook her head. "Listen here, I reckon that I've already broke my mama's heart quite enough for this lifetime. I am not deprivin' her of watchin' her only daughter walk down the aisle. Even if it is to a sinner like you. No, sir."

"Why, Elizabeth," Dave said with a forced smile, his fingers tightening slightly around her shoulder, "That just fills me with such a warm, well-loved feeling!"

Issuing a decidedly unladylike snort, Lizzie rolled her eyes, kicking her feet up on the edge of her littered coffee table. "We both know that there ain't no love lost between us, David Rossi. And if you ask me, we're fixin' to make a real bad situation miles worse."

"Ah, but, Elizabeth, one way or another, in a few short days, you're gonna make your God a promise to love and honor me forever. You wouldn't wanna lie would you. We both know how you feel about that," Dave teased, drawn again to the beautiful way her mouth pulled when she pouted like this.

"I'm tryin' to remember what my mama always said," Lizzie grumbled.

"What was that, honey?" Dave asked, honestly curious what the next bit of old Southern wisdom would fly from her lips.

"Hate the sin, love the sinner," Lizzie sighed.

"Sage advice," Dave nodded approvingly, grinning at her, wrapping a stray curl in his pinky.

"And harder than you expect to live by," Lizzie added, sidling toward him, telling herself it was only because a sudden chill filled the air. "You are gonna put me through my paces when it comes to obeyin' that one, I'm afraid."

"The feeling's mutual, Lizzie," Rossi said, grinning as he shook his head, staring down into her bright green eyes. He could spend years looking into her clear gaze and never tire of it. "I don't think our life is going to be boring, is it?"

"Didn't those three other marriages of yours teach you nothing? Marriage isn't supposed to be exciting, Agent Ros---"

But she found her words cut off as his finger pressed against her lips, his eyes boring into hers as he said, determinedly, "Lizzie, I seem to remember you using my first name last night, so why don't you use it now? You can't keep calling me Rossi, considering that before long, that's going to be your name, too."

Eyes widening, she drew in a deep breath as she pulled his hand away, unconsciously letting him slide it into his lap as she said, surprised, "I hadn't even thought of that! Why, I've always been a Winstead from the day I was born! I can't be a Rossi!"

"If you marry me, Lizzie, you'll be a Rossi," he said firmly, tucking her hands together as he shifted her again, leaning their shoulders together. Tilting her chin, he said, "Do you have a problem taking my name?"

"Why not? It might be the only traditional thing about this whole farce," Lizzie grumbled, leaning against his touch as she felt another shiver slide down her spine. Traitorous body, she thought darkly.

"I'm overwhelmed by your show of enthusiasm, Elizabeth," Dave chuckled, staring down at her mutinous face.


	32. Chapter 32

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

"Well, I'm sorry if I can't find all that much to be enthusiastic about. I'm marryin' a man that has a whole checkerboard for a past. At least I couldn't help the trouble that found me. You went out carousin' and found all nature of things to get yourself into. AND all manner of women if that Lana is anything to go by. I declare," Lizzie muttered, swatting hard at his chest. Raring back, she declared, loudly, her face drawn into a decided frown of disapproval, "Raspberry jelly? I wanted to scrub my ears out with a Brillo pad after hearin' that. I'm tellin' you right now, you come packin' anything from the refrigerator or kitchen pantry into our marriage bed and I'll find a altogether different use for my granny's old cast iron skillet!"

"You really need to allow yourself to have an open mind, Lizzie," Dave teased, pulling her hand back in his as he swept his thumb against her soft skin. Watching her blush climb up her delicate neck was almost breathtaking, he thought idly, intrigued by the beauty in front of him.

Feeling her cheeks reddening, Lizzie hissed, "You best get that horrible mind of yours out of the nasty gutter it lives in, right now, Agent Rossi! I already told you once, you're turnin' over a brand new leaf!"

"Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie," Rossi murmured, burying his hand in her soft curls as he cupped her neck, pulling her closer. "Honey, the thing about marriage is it involves a lot compromise. Each of us will be changing as we learn about the other person."

"You first," Lizzie shot back, shivering slightly as his fingers slide against a really sensitive spot on her neck. Who knew her neck had that spot, anyway? Tensing her shoulders, she added, determinedly, "I don't cotton to being disgraced because of one of your painted harlots makes an appearance, you hear me?"

"Oh, I hear every word you're saying, honey," Rossi murmured, enraptured by her flushed cheeks and her heaving bosom. Damn, this woman was absolutely beautiful. And staring down at her beautiful, full lips, he knew that he wasn't going to be satisfied until he tasted them again. Pressing a gentle finger against the swell of her lower lip, he said softly, "And now, I think it's time to quit talking for a while."

Staring up at him in open mouthed anger, Lizzie said sharply, raising her hand to pull his away, "But I'm not…."

But any response she might have had was soon swallowed up in his kiss. Sweeping his lips against hers, gently at first, Dave had to smile as he felt her gasp, her faint breath mingling with his. Damn, if she didn't have the sweetest lips! Angling her slightly, he took advantage of her surprise to seal their lips, slipping his tongue easily into her surprised open mouth.

Long minutes later as Dave's warm body crushed hers gently back against the cushions of her couch, Lizzie pulled her lips away from his drugging kisses as she felt his gentle hand slide down her neck to cup one breast. "David," she gasped, trying to force her mind to take control, to come back to her senses, "I'm not sure…"

Drawing back to peer down into confused, uncertain eyes, Dave rested his forehead against hers as his hand stilled and she caught her breath, her thin shoulders quivering. "All you ever have to say is no, Elizabeth. One word and I stop, no questions asked, no matter what."

Releasing a shaky breath, Lizzie closed her eyes briefly, needing the break from reality. These feelings he could stir up in her…they were like nothing she'd ever felt before and weren't anything she'd ever been prepared for. "I'm gonna be your wife in just a few days. I know I'm gonna have to do my wifely duty," she murmured resolutely, her eyes still firmly closed, the idea of looking at him during this conversation more than she could fathom.

"You never HAVE to do anything, Lizzie. No one's ever going to force your hand again, including me," Dave promised as he stared down at her pinched face as she squeezed her eyes tightly closed. "Look at me, Elizabeth," he urged softly, sliding a gentle finger along the edge of her eyelashes, reveling in the touch of those tiny whispers.

"I don't wanna," she blurted, shaking her head again, unconsciously pressing herself closer to his warm body in the process.

"Honey, I want you to see that I'm telling you the truth and you can't do that unless you open them," Dave replied, smiling gently at her, amazing himself with the control he was showing. But, he'd already realized earlier today that this was going to be an uphill battle, and she was only reinforcing his theory. "Come on, sweetheart, you trusted me enough last night to allow me to touch you. All I'm asking for now is some of that faith you had in me yesterday."

"I was drugged," Lizzie retorted, flashing her eyes open as she pressed a firm palm against his beating heart. Feeling herself start to return to normal, to regain some of the good sense God had given her, she added, "And I'd never have permitted such liberties if I'd been myself. And we wouldn't be in this mess."

"I don't happen to consider this a tragedy," Dave chuckled, brushing a curl behind her ear as he tucked her closer, his body definitely appreciating her natural beauty.

"And God has a special place in His heaven for fools like you," she explained patiently, eyeing him warily as he shifted against her. Feeling heavy evidence of his arousal against her thigh, Lizzie's eyes widened. "What in the WORLD is THAT?" she asked, jerking against him.

Wondering for a moment if she was attempting to tease, he raised an eyebrow, intent on responding with a quip of his own. But when he saw the honest shocked look on her pixie face and the uncertainty flashing in her deep eyes, he realized that she was truly confused, her question asked out of the innocence that surrounded her entire being. And, damn! This was definitely not the normal situation that he found himself in when he was pressed up against a beautiful woman!

His breath caught in his chest as she shifted against him again, his body definitely involved in this discussion. "Honey, what exactly did your mother tell you when she talked to you about how a husband and wife please one another?" Rossi asked carefully, forcing himself to hold his body in check as he saw her blush deepen, painting her cheeks with a charming rosy hue.

The faint ticking of her grandmother's clock on the bookshelf could be heard as Lizzie paused for a moment, her head cocked to the side, then she finally said, her voice holding more bravado than she felt, "That it's something that all wives have to do whether they want to or not, and that I should just close my eyes, think of Dixie, and suffer through it. And she didn't say nothin' about the wife being pleased anywhere at all in the whole deal!"


	33. Chapter 33

******_Author's Note: Thank you to all of you reviewing! Please drop me a line and let me know that you're still enjoying the story. Thanks!!_**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

"Well, you already know different," Rossi replied, shaking his head, wondering if it was truly possible for a woman to still hold those views in the twenty-first century. But then, he reminded himself grimly, he had met Lizzie's father, and that alone might explain away a multitude of sins. Returning his thoughts back to the present, to the amazing woman beside him, he said, softly, trailing a finger against the soft planes of her neck and collarbone, "Last night proved that you can experience pleasure, honey."

"But we didn't……" Pausing, Lizzie blushed even more as she bit her lip, then said, agitated, "You know….we didn't do that!"

"A man and a woman can enjoy each other's bodies in many different ways, Elizabeth," he explained calmly, sweeping his thumb against her cheek. Dropping his hand to hers, he joined their fingers as he continued, "And my body shows that pleasure a bit more prominently than yours does." Guiding her willing hand, he pressed it softly against his covered arousal, forcing himself to not react when her delicate fingers tentatively cupped him.

Catching her breath as his body seemed to grow even heavier at the light touch of her fingertips, Lizzie's eyes dilated, snapping back up to his. "What do you have in there? Tell the truth! You've got a balloon in your pants."

He couldn't help it! He groaned, dropping his head against her neck as deep laughter shook his shoulders. How in the world had he managed to find the one truly innocent left on the face of the earth? And as much as he would like to just ignore the fact, he couldn't ignore that he enjoyed her refreshing naiveté.

Smacking his shoulder, Lizzie blushed as she jerked her fingers away from his pants. "Quit laughin' at me, you Devil's own son! This ain't funny!" she shouted, pushing hard at his jacket.

Between his chuckles, Dave gasped, trying to catch his breath but failing mightily. "I'm sorry, honey! Really! I am!"

"You sound sorry, you varmint!" she retorted darkly, smacking his shoulder again as a strong arm slid around her waist. "There's not a blessed thing to find funny here!"

"Honey, I'm honestly not laughing at you," Dave said, finally regaining a semblance of control as he lifted his head, staring into her gorgeous green eyes.

"Liar! I just heard you," Lizzie hissed, trying valiantly to scoot out from under him, his weight suddenly more oppressive, more confining. "It's not my fault. I was a good girl before…before…" she stuttered as her heart hammered in her chest, taking her breath as she tried to make sense of everything that was happening.

"Lizzie," Dave said calmly, recognizing the signs of her rising ire, but not placing the emotion correctly, "I find your innocence refreshing."

"Are you deaf?! Haven't you heard anything that got said today? I'm NOT innocent anymore! Not after HE got done with me!" she screamed at the top of her tiny lungs, the stress of the last twenty four hours suddenly rising to the forefront, her emotions bubbling over in volcanic fashion.

His lips tightening as he felt her entire body start to stiffen, to shake, he reacted quickly, carefully keeping his hands in place as he said, calmly, "Lizzie, I know you think…."

"You don't know a thing! You don't know what he did…what he did to me!" Lizzie shrieked, her hands clawing at his arms as she tried to sit up, tried to pull away, to hide from him.

"Lizzie, let me…" Dave whispered, his jaw tightening as he tried to touch her cheek, only to have her jerk at the touch.

His words were lost in the shuffle as she pulled away quickly, far quicker than he thought she was capable of in her slightly inebriated state. Wanting to help, to keep her from hurting herself in her haste, he tugged on her sleeve, only to feel her slap resounding soundly against his face as she pushed him back against the couch.

"Don't touch me, do you hear me?" she shrieked, her words flying out in a jumble, matching her current thoughts, her actions coming by rote now. Her only desire at that moment was to hide, to find somewhere to feel safe again.

Landing with an oomph against the hard arm of the couch, Dave managed to catch sight of her streaming red hair as she flew across the small room, rounding a corner. Pushing quickly off the couch, Rossi caught the edge of his knee on the heavy wooden coffee table.

"Goddamn it, what the hell?" he cursed loudly as he side skirted the demonic piece of furniture, limping quickly in the direction of his future wife.

But the sound of a slamming door met him as he turned into the short hallway. Standing outside what he deduced to be her bathroom, given that he could see the open door to her bedroom right next door, he said, with a calm he definitely did NOT feel, "Elizabeth, let me in. I just want to talk, honey."

But his simple words were met with silence. Complete and total silence. Glancing toward the bedroom again, he tried to see if there was a connecting door to the bath, but no, no such luck. Staring again at the closed portal, he pressed a hand against the wood.

Trying again, he demanded, feeling his heart starting to beat slightly faster, "Lizzie? Are you in there?"

Waiting for a moment, and getting no response once again, he reached for the doorknob, intending to assuage the fear that was starting to whisper, to quieten the worry. "Lizzie, I'm coming in. I just want to make sure you're okay." But he was met with resistance, the doorknob not releasing , the little spitfire obviously having locked herself in.

Shaking the knob suddenly, he couldn't resist demanding, "Elizabeth Grace Winstead, open this door right now." Good Lord in heaven, the woman had managed to make him feel almost every emotion possible in the last twenty-four hours, and now she was adding even more. Damn, she was intending on killing him before they even became man and wife, wasn't she? At this rate, she'd definitely succeed in her mission.

Shifting his eyes to the doorknob and frame, he narrowed his eyes as he saw the flimsiness of the entire structure. But then his eyes saw the hinges on the outside, and he felt himself grin grimly. Flicking out his handy ever-present pocket knife, it didn't take him thirty seconds to pop the two loose pieces of hardware.

Staring inside the suddenly opened bathroom, Rossi met the defiant eyes of his future wife as he said, angrily, "What in hell do you think you're doing, woman? You scared the life out of me!"


	34. Chapter 34

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

Looking up at him from her position in the empty tub, Lizzie narrowed her green eyes on the infuriatingly handsome man in front of her. "Since you're still walkin' and talkin', Mr. Big Britches, I find that real hard to believe."

"Honey, it was a figure of speech," Dave sighed, leaning his shoulder tiredly against the doorframe, now very bare of one important door. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Lizzie snapped, angrily wiping at her tear stained cheeks. "Wish I could say as much for my poor innocent door," she muttered. Snapping her eyes back to his concerned face, she ordered, "You know you're putting that back up. I'll be darned if I'm gonna let you stand between me and my damage deposit."

"I'll put the door back up after you come out of the bathtub and come talk to me," Dave bargained, moving inside to drop onto the closed toilet.

"I don't have nothin' left to say," Lizzie mumbled. "And even if I did, I wouldn't waste my breath talking to a crowing rooster like you."

"Now, I know you're feeling better," Dave said, offering her a small grin. "You're calling me animal names again."

"Oh, I got a few of those…" Lizzie began popping up her fingers. "Dirty dog, Mangy mutt, dog in the manger, pig in the slop…"

"Okay, honey," Dave groaned, throwing up a hand at her. "I think I've got the point. I'm not exactly your favorite person right now. But I really do care about you and I want you to be happy, Lizzie."

"Not much chance of that," she muttered darkly. "You're still here, yammerin' away just to hear your head roar."

"Lizzie, what can I do to make it better?" Rossi asked with a sigh, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees. Seeing her mouth open quickly, he stopped her just as fast, his hand raised as he said, firmly, "And before you say it, I'm not leaving you alone, so don't even ask.

Throwing a definite mutinous glare in his direction, she snapped, "Seein' as how I'm in my own home and I ain't married to you yet, I ain't askin' you for a darned thing."

"Be that as it may, I'm not leaving, so you may as well start talking," Rossi replied evenly, wincing as she flounced angrily in the tub, banging her elbow against the fiberglass. Cocking an eyebrow, he added, "Have you considered that another location might be slightly more comfortable? It doesn't look like you have a lot of room in there."

Dropping her head back against the edge of the tub, Lizzie replied, voice frosty, "It probably seems small to you, seein' as how you're used to hostin' an entire legion of hussies in your bath."

"Honey, you can try to distract me all you want, but I'm not going to forget what we were talking about," Rossi said, feeling the corner of his start to twitch uncontrollably. Oh great, he thought darkly. Now the damned beauty had given him a nervous tic.

"I ain't talking 'bout that or anything else under the bloomin' sun with YOU," Lizzie snarled, suddenly digging in the pocket of her trousers, her eyes gleaming as she withdrew a small glass bottle.

"Honey, you need to talk about these things. You can't leave them bottled up inside, or you're going to…" Rossi began, eyeing her carefully as her fingers attempted to twist off the small lid.

Achieving victory, she downed a quick swallow, then grimaced as she said, hoarsely, "Penelope. I want Penelope."

"Penelope? As in, Penelope Garcia?" Dave asked warily. Silently Dave added, the woman that had made it very plain that if he harmed one hair on Elizabeth Winstead's very treasured head, she'd find a painfully creative way with which to destroy his entire hard earned fortune when he'd spoken to her earlier in the day, Penelope? "Sweetheart, are you sure that she's…"

"The only friend I've got in this whole blessed state that might have a cotton pickin' chance at understanding me right now? Yes, Agent Rossi, I'm positive. Get me Penelope!" she ordered shrilly.

Nodding readily as he held up a silencing hand and fished in his pocket for his cell phone, he agreed, "Garcia, it is." Adding in a dark mutter, "May God take some mercy on my soul."

~*~

An hour and a half later, David Rossi had determined that there was no God. Because if there had been a God, he would have surely saved him by now, wouldn't he? He was a good Catholic who went to Mass twice a year and gave to the charity when the nuns hounded him. He had been a good son, taking care of his sainted mother until she passed on to her eternal reward. He had paid his dues and earned some support from the Big Guy, hadn't he?

But no. God had forsaken him, turned his back on him in his hour of need. And he was definitely in need of some sort of divine protection, considering that he had faced the wrath of four women in the past ninety minutes. And all of them wanted him dead. And some of them had come armed.

His first battle had occurred by phone, which one would think was safer than hand-to –to hand combat. But apparently that belief fell by the wayside when Penelope Garcia was on the other end of the connection. As soon as the woman had answered the call, he had known that he was in deep trouble.

"Did you not understand what I told you earlier? I'm not talking to you, you underhanded, deceitful cradle robber," she had sang out before he had even had a chance to say hello.

"Nice to speak to you, too, Garcia," he had said with a sigh, staring down at his feet, wondering how he had managed to piss off the entire female race without even seriously trying. Hearing Lizzie shuffle in the tub beside him, he had quickly returned to the subject at hand as he said, determinedly, "But I'm not calling for me. Lizzie would like for you to come over if you can."

Her reply had been swift. "I swear on a stack of DOS manuals, if you have hurt my little Southern belle of the ball, I will personally destroy your entire electronic identity and…."

"Lizzie's fine, Garcia," Rossi had assured her quickly, which earned him a snort from the tub, followed by a quick swallow from the tiny bottle again. Hedging his words, he added, "But she's in need of some female advice and companionship, and that's you."

"Okay," Penelope muttered, "But to be entirely clear, I'm coming to comfort my friend, NOT to help you."

"Whatever reason you wanna use, Garcia. Just get here. Fast!" Dave ordered, ending the call and throwing it toward on the sink. And with a look at the beauty sitting defiantly in the tub, Dave inwardly groaned. Of all the women in all the world, God had chosen this one for him to end his days with. The man upstairs had one hell of sense of humor.


	35. Chapter 35

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter 35**

Twenty minutes later, Penelope Garcia's bouncy blonde head, liberally streaked with a becoming shade of neon green, this day, had bounced into the heretofore mentioned Elizabeth Winstead's apartment. Her arrival had been announced by the loud, piercing honk of her beloved and well-preserved Esther's car horn, which she decided to tap multiple times as she pulled into the parking spot directly in front of Lizzie's apartment door.

Not bothering with social niceties, the whirlwind had simply demanded her charge's location and, being the highly educated and smart man that he was, David Rossi had simply pointed towards the bathroom. The short walk down the hallway had been followed by a shriek of epic proportions, the apartment entirely too small to contain the lung capacity of that amazing woman. Who knew the removal of a simple piece of wood could send not one, but two, women into an apoplectic fit?

Ten minutes after that, the wooden barrier firmly back in its place and promises given that such a travesty would never occur again, David Rossi had sank tiredly to Lizzie's couch, mentally exhausted beyond anything in his recent memory. But, at least he could hear voices now. His Lizzie was finally talking to somebody and he reminded himself that even if it wasn't him, it was progress.

Hearing the recently replaced bathroom door open seconds later, Dave watched as Penelope marched back into the living room, sparing him no more than a decidedly icy cursory glare as she rooted around the coffee table.

"Well?" Dave asked impatiently, watching as the blonde menace searched for full containers in the destruction that was Lizzie's coffee table.

Jerking her head up, Penelope bit out, "You've got two minutes to convince me why I should go back in that room and convince my little Lizzie that YOU are the better bet. As of this very moment, I've got six very nice, very attractive, and very age appropriate men willing to throw themselves on Lizzie's sword for no more than a six pack of beer and a kind word, one of which just happens to be my very own Love Bug! So, tell me, why are you so much the better bet, Super Agent? Hmmm?"

"Garcia-," Dave growled warningly, feeling his jaw clench for what had to be the twelfth time in the last half hour alone.

Lifting her slim wrist to pointedly gaze at it, Garcia tapped her lime green pump against the carpet. "Time's ticking, Super Agent. I'd formulate a reply ASAP."

Rolling his eyes, Dave had been prepared to smart off again, only to catch a glare that promised his demise would occur in the immediate future if he didn't tell her what she wanted ot hear. Drawing in a deep breath, he ground out, "Dammit, woman, what do you want me to say? I think I've proven that I have Lizzie's best interests at heart, considering that I stood up to her crazy father more times than I care to remember over the past twenty four hours. I've suffered abuse without retaliating, had my house raided at the crack of dawn and didn't shoot the intruders. That alone should give guarantee me entrance to heaven. ALL because I was being a good guy and taking care of that woman after she damned near got herself killed by a street thug." Matching her glare for glare, he added, tightly, "Any of those other boys in your stable gonna be willing to do any of that for her?"

"All admirable qualities, but I don't believe I heard the magic word in any of that folderol," Garcia shot back quickly, propping a hand on her spandex covered hip as she peered over the top of her speckled glasses.

"For the love of God, Garcia, what are you talking about now?" Rossi all but yelled, lowering his voice at the last minute as he remembered that Lizzie was still within earshot. And the last thing he needed was to send her into another fit of rage. He had just got the door replaced as it was, and he didn't have a full tool kit with him at the moment.

"Oh, don't play dumb with me. I've read your personnel file, remember? Serial marriage seems to be your strong suit, which doesn't exactly give you a rousing recommendation for our perfect little peach in there, does it? But it does mean that you might at least KNOW the word, whether or not you actually choose to PRACTICE it," Garcia ground out, waving her hand in the air as she added, "Fifteen left. Get cracking."

"Oh, hell," Dave groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "You can't honestly expect me to profess love eternal at this juncture, can you?" Glancing up and seeing her direct stare and pursed lips, David Rossi quickly realized that was just what the eternal optimist hoped to hear. But he wouldn't lie. He wasn't sure what he felt. Something beyond mere friendship? Definitely. But, love? Hadn't he sworn off that years ago? Deciding that the truth might actually buy him a bit of time to sort out his rapidly evolving and changing emotions, he grumbled, widening his stance, "Shit, Garcia. It would be very easy for any man, myself included, to fall in love with Lizzie." Meeting his technical analysts stare head on, Dave crossed his arms over his chest, his frown growing deeper by the second. "And that's as far as I'm willing to go at this time, Penelope," he growled belligerently.

Cocking her head as she studied the older man, Penelope remarked conversationally, "Lucky for you that I'm a big advocate for May/December romances, Super Agent. I'll go in there," she said, nodding toward the bathroom down the hallway in do my job, "and do my part. I suggest you get busy with yours. And call me some reinforcement!" she ordered over her shoulder as she turned toward the hall, her footsteps moving quickly away from him. "I'm gonna need 'em."


	36. Chapter 36

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Thirty-Six**

Which led to the next skirmish in this special little war of his. Stalking toward Lizzie's tiny kitchen, he had flipped open his phone and pressed a speed dial button while he had slammed the coffee pot in place, quickly determining that he was going to need whatever accelerant he could get his hands on.

Fifteen minutes and two cups of coffee later, he had done battle with the second newcomer. And, just his luck, this one carried her own firearm. Emily Prentiss hadn't even bothered knocking, merely opening the door that Garcia had left unlocked and marched right in. Propping a hand on her trouser-clad hip, she had leveled a death glare on him as she demanded, suspiciously, "Start talking, Rossi, and don't stop until you manage to convince me that I should allow you to continue living."

He had been spared from pleading for his life by a loud yell that had rang through the tiny apartment, that voice that could only belong to their California native, demanding Prentiss' presence in the room currently reserved for members of the female persuasion. Emily had pointed at him as she said, darkly, "JJ is five minutes behind me. Do not piss her off. Capice?"

He had made a stupid move then, daring to ask what he had done to Jennifer Jareau. This had led to a two and a half minute dissertation on the fickleness, feebleness and general fallacies of men, which translated, in his book, that, for whatever reason, Will LaMontagne was in deep shit. And considering that he himself was personally dealing with his own crisis of the female persuasion, he had mentally wished the man well but vowed to stay a million miles away from that powder keg.

Which he had done. When the blonde agent had banged loudly on the door, he had merely held the portal open for her, pointed in the direction of the tiny bathroom, and stepped out of her way when she had barreled past him. He may have heard a few curses mixed with the irrational mutterings as she headed toward the rest of the female contingent, but, being the smart man that he claimed to be, he was certain that the normally staid Jennifer Jareau was merely being her normally kind self.

But now…now that all three of the furies had joined his fiancée in the tiny room meant for single habitation, David Rossi found himself firmly ensconced on the floral couch. All alone. With Lizzie's collection of empty airline liquor bottles, cheesy porn, and a devilish to-do list. And all he could do was stare at the hallway, wondering what was happening. And wondering if that tiny Southern bombshell was still willing to marry him. And for some strange reason, he really hoped her answer was yes.

But all he could do was wait. And wish that he was a fly on the wall in that room of women.

****************

Jerking her eyes toward the click of the opening door, Penelope Garcia stood quickly, completely prepared to do battle with the forces of evil, also known as David Rossi, if it meant keeping him from her new favorite person. But seeing the raven head of Emily Prentiss peep through, Penelope smiled tightly, pulling her coworker into the small space as she said over her shoulder, "Look, sweetie, Em's here. I told you she would come."

Barely pulling her red head up from the edge of the tub, Lizzie murmured, "Hey, Emily. Welcome to my party. Forgive me for not sending out engraved invitations earlier, okay?"

Glancing down at the obviously overwrought woman currently curled into a corner of the fiberglass tub, Emily said, carefully, "Any special reason we're holding this little tete-a-tete in the bath? And someone want to tell me why David Rossi is still among the living?"

"He ain't worth killin'," Lizzie snorted suddenly, some of the life coming back to her dull eyes. "Besides," she groaned, "he's tryin' to do the right thing…though I 'spect he's got his own nefarious reasons…the least of which is gettin' me in bed." Raising her head to look at Emily, she asked, "Tell me, Em, was he still wavin' around that blamed piece of paper when you got here?"

"What piece of paper?" JJ asked, lightly scooting Emily out of the way as she, too, arrived, ready to save Lizzie from an unsavory fate at the hands of yet another man.

"Some tacky little slip of paper givin' him permission to leave me high and dry once he gets bored and wants to move on to his next victim," Lizzie retorted, waving her hand in the air, banging her knuckles against the edge of the tub. "Perrenial…perfunctory…oh, devil take it…it was some kind of agreement!"

"A prenuptial agreement?!" Garcia shouted. "He wants you to sign a prenump?"

Snapping her fingers, Lizzie pointed at Penelope, satisfaction in her eyes. "Bulls-eye! That was it!"

Her eyes darkening by the second, Emily stepped forward, raising a hand as she said, quickly, "Wait just a minute, Lizzie. Are you telling us that David Rossi had the audacity to want you to sign a prenup? Tonight?"

"He was a'claimin' that it would protect me as much as him, but ya know, that's what a man always says just to get what he wants," Lizzie muttered, then looked up at the girls as she asked, darkly, "It's an I don't agreement is what it is. Ain't no way on God's green earth that I'm a gonna be saying I don't before I say I do."

"What it is, Lizzie," JJ began, fury filling her blue eyes as she eased closer to the side of the tub, shifting Penelope back against the sink, "Is a way for the man to protect his ass while you're left hanging out to dry." Clenching her jaw, she glared at the other women as she said, heavily, "I'm gonna beat that bastard black and blue and then kill him just for the fun of it."

Pulling her head back at the vitriolic comments flowing from her normally staid friend, Penelope said slowly, "Ok, my little precious gumdrop, sounds like we might be having some male issues of our own here." Hearing Emily's snort over her shoulder, Penelope jerked her head back, catching the knowing look in the older profiler's eyes. Snapping her eyes back, she said, emphatically, "Start talking. Tell Auntie Penelope everything and don't leave a detail out."

Smiling tightly, JJ crossed her arms over her chest as she dropped to the closed commode. "I believe this is Lizzie's moment, so…."

"No, I wanna know too," Lizzie piped up, her eyes lighting up for the first time in hours. "Misery loves company, ya know."


	37. Chapter 37

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Thirty-Seven**

"Fine," their media liaison sighed, dropping to sit on the narrow ledge of the tub as she looked around at her girlfriends. "It's not like you aren't gonna figure it out when I start tossing my cookies around the office. I'm pregnant. Again."

Eyes widening, Lizzie sat up in the tub, reaching for JJ's hand. "You've got a bun in the oven again? Oh, honey!"

Nodding mutely, JJ swallowed tightly, choking against the words. "And Will is over the freaking moon…couldn't be happier. Never mind the fact that we've still got one baby in diapers. Never mind the fact that I JUST got my figure back. Never mind the fact that I just now started being able to sleep through the night…you'd think HE'D just won the lottery!"

"Men are such selfish pigs," Emily grumbled darkly, crossing her arms over her chest, banging an elbow against the drywall in the process. "It's all about what WE can do for THEM."

"When THEY'RE the ones that put us in these pickles to begin with," Lizzie added, glaring at the closed doorway, imagining she was staring at that infuriating man probably sitting pretty as a picture in her living room.

Looking from girl to girl, Pen shook her head, a thought processing in her steel-trap mind. Slowly, she started, "O-kay, don't shoot me…but maybe we're all looking at this the wrong way."

"You mean there's a right way?" JJ said with a watery chuckle, reaching for the tissue paper, tearing off a square and blotting her eyelashes.

"Sure there is, Gumdrop! Take Peaches here," she said confidently, jerking her head toward Lizzie. "She's managed to fell the mighty David Rossi."

"Pardon me? You been sippin' the spiked sassafrass, sister?" Lizzie asked incredulously, narrowing her eyes at the peppy blonde.

"Apparently, she's been spending too much time with those computers of hers and the electric fields have fried her mind," JJ said in a loud whisper as she patted Penelope's hand in pity.

Jerking her hand away and using it to slap at JJ's fingers, Penelope said loudly, "Think about it! Our little Lizzie, the darling of Dixie, has captured the biggest damn Yankee in the world. And got him eating out of her hand!"

Cocking her head as she looked around the small room, Emily said slowly, "Garcia, I'll grant you that Rossi seems to be concerned, but…."

"He ought to be concerned," Lizzie muttered, propping her chin on the edge of the tub. "My daddy just about filled his hindend with buckshot on principle alone. And Daddy's got an eagle eye when it comes to his shotgun."

"He's more than concerned, Lizzie," Penelope assured her, throwing a dirty look in Emily's direction. "Mr. Tall, Dark and Aloof was practically begging me to get over here and "fix" you before you decided to leave him altogether. That ranks bit higher on the Richter scale of love, I do believe."

"Oh, poo," Lizzie snorted, flouncing back against the tub, wincing as she banged her knee for the third time. "That fool man wouldn't know love it jumped up and bit him where the sun don't shine!"

"All the better for you to teach him how it's done in Dixie," Pen winked, wriggling her well-defined eyebrows.

"Penny, I don't think either one of us will ever live long enough for that to happen," Lizzie sighed, shaking her full head of curls. "We ain't even married yet and that man is already looking for the door marked "EXIT"."

"Listen, Buttercup," Pen sighed, a pained expression on her painted face, "After your rousing little phone call this morning, I started doing some digging on our world renowned profiler out there. And let me tell ya, he's got some fairly decent reasons to be gun shy. At least two of those exes of his did a number on not only his wallet, but his pride as well. One even cheated on him with his best friend. Not exactly good wife material, if you know what I mean. He's trying to guard himself, Lizzie. And based on what I unearthed, I can't blame him."

"You tellin' me that I should sign those papers, Penny?" Lizzie asked slowly, raising up in the tub.

"I'm saying that Agent Rossi had a very detailed prenuptial agreement for his third marriage. And that woman still walked away a very wealthy woman. I don't think he's trying to guard his fortune as much as he is his heart," Pen shrugged, her deeply-colored lips pursed in thought.

Frowning, Lizzie stared into space, blankly staring up at the popcorn ceiling. "Now I'm more confused than I was to begin with."

"Look, Peaches," Pen began earnestly, pushing Emily out of the way as she scooted closer to the tub, "You can't deny the chemistry between the two of you. It's been there from day one. Didn't you once tell me that you got flutters in your tummy every time he was around?"

"Indigestion," Lizzie retorted, shimmying slightly. "He was sourin' the food on my stomach."

"Yeah, sure he was," Emily chuckled, shaking her dark head. Warming up to Penelope's line of reasoning, Emily cajoled softly, "Come on, Lizzie…are you really gonna tell us that you don't have any kinder, gentler feelings for that man out there?"

"He's a rounder," Lizzie said evasively, refusing to acknowledge the tightening in her chest or the sudden drop in her stomach as she thought about spending the rest of her life with David Rossi. "I don't wanna spend the rest of my life wonderin' which skirt he's chasin' round, girls."

"Was, Lizzie. David Rossi was a rounder," JJ corrected, smiling gently down at the tiny woman. "As media liaison, I make it a point to know what these boys on our team have their hands into. I refuse to be caught unaware when they've got their hands in the proverbial cookie jar for any reason. And trust me, David Rossi hasn't had his hands wrapped around anybody since he came back to the Bureau."

"Honestly?" Lizzie asked, her voice more than a little breathless as she leveled JJ with a stare from her green eyes.

"Honestly," JJ replied, nodding solemnly. "The girls all still flirt, but he ignores him. And not to sound like I'm taking ANY man's side right now, but…honey, that's only gotten worse since you walked into his life."

Glaring at all three of the woman equally, Lizzie muttered, "I declare, if I didn't know better, I'd swear on my granny's grave that ya'll are trying to get me hitched to that…that…that devil in human form out there!"


	38. Chapter 38

**_Author's Note: Please, dear readers, leave a review and let us know if you're enjoying the story. Thanks for reading!!_**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

Trying to hide her smile as she exchanged glances with the other two women, Emily raised a hand in peace, her voice even and controlled as she said, "All we're doing is examining both sides of the situation, Lizzie. That's what we do, you know. It's up to you to weigh the evidence and determine how you want to interpret it."

"Of course, that doesn't mean that we're not above tinting that so-called evidence in our favor a bit," Garcia added with a wide grin, scooting to the side as Emily easily perched on the marble sink vanity. Wriggling her eyebrows, she whispered, loudly, "Let's not forget that the man's loaded, Lizzie! He has more money than God, or at least Oprah, and could probably buy and sell that happy little hometown of yours!"

Waving her hand in the air, knocking off a plastic bottle from Victoria's Secret from the corner of the tub, Lizzie rolled her eyes as she declared, darkly, "He can keep that filthy lucre of his. Easy come, easy go. And he's going to do that anyway if I sign that blasted paper."

"Well, Lizzie, there's one thing that I doubt that prenup will cover," JJ said slyly, leaning forward to catch the young woman's eyes. Fighting the smile on the corner of her lips, she said, slowly, "How do I put this delicately? David Rossi is quite …..experienced….in making sure that a woman ….enjoys….every part of the entire relationship. Every part, Lizzie."

Cocking her red head to the side, her green eyes clouding over, Lizzie said slowly, "Maybe I've got a blue million things runnin' through my mind, but what in tarnation are you talkin' about, JJ?"

Seeing Lizzie's confused look, Garcia rolled her eyes as she flicked a hand towel in JJ's direction, hitting her friend on the shoulder as she exclaimed, loudly, "The man's a god in bed, Lizzie."

*****************

Sitting on the outside looking in was never one of David Rossi's strong suits. Patience was a virtue, and he had never claimed to be virtuous, actually eschewing that very character trait for other more lucrative and definitely speedier attributes. Having waited for over twenty minutes while the three fairy godmothers were either indoctrinating or convincing his future wife to remain his future wife, he suddenly reached a critical mass.

Jumping up from the couch, he decided that pacing the small living room might help relieve the urge to smash his hand through a wall, table, or television set. But that choice only served to remind him of the size of Lizzie's apartment, which, if compared to a postage stamp, would be denigrating to the stamp.

Easing down the hallway, he couldn't help but pause in front of the door he had recently replaced, barely resisting the urge to press his ear to the plyboard, hoping to overhear some smidge of conversation that might give him hope for the future. Or give him advance warning to start running for the hills when the four women emerged, intent on making him pay for sins he honestly felt he hadn't committed.

But he needn't have worried about having to eavesdrop, when the not-so-dulcet tone of Penelope Garcia sailed through the air, informing the world of his prowess in bed.

Which led him to his second excursion into the tiny bath of one Elizabeth Grace Winstead.

*********************

"And on that note," David Rossi declared, his deep voice resonating in the small bathroom, interrupting the girl talk that had filled the air just moments ago, "I think I'd like to talk to my future wife. Alone."

"Come on, Super Agent," Pen winked from the floor, waving a manicured hand in his direction, "We're in here singing your praises loud and proud. The least you could do is be grateful."

"Yes, thank you, ladies, so much," Rossi replied drily, his eyes finding his betrothed still firmly encased in her generic fiberglass tub. "So far you've tried to influence Elizabeth with my purse and my penis…neither of which does she seem to be very impressed with."

"Well, now, that ain't true! I don't exactly wanna marry a pauper," Lizzie retorted, her red head popping up in the tub. "Mama always said a man's purse can never be too big." Shrugging, she added, negligently, "The other, I can do without."

"Trust me, hon, the other is always smaller than the men proclaim it to be," JJ sighed, shaking her blonde head.

"Much, much smaller," Emily agreed, nodding.

"Hey! Still standing here!" Rossi growled gruffly, looking darkly around the room as he felt his cheeks slowly begin to heat. "And I'd like some things to remain a mystery, thank you very much." Waving his hand toward the door, banging his fist against the small mirror in the process, he added, firmly, "Now, if you don't mind, ladies."

"Guess we shouldn't direct our little southern peach to those feisty photos of you on the net then," Pen whispered to him as she walked out of the bathroom, stepping into the hallway.

Paling, Dave stared down at the shorter woman. "Tell me you're…"

"Joking?" Penelope chuckled.

"Garcia," Dave growled.

"Just kidding…but based on the level of anxiety on your face, I'm sooo going surfing on the net tonight," Garcia laughed, hugging herself at the happy thought.

"All right, ladies," Dave muttered as he suddenly found himself surrounded on all sides by women that seemed to have scented the obvious discomfort emanating from him, "I appreciate you all coming so quickly to console Elizabeth, but I think I can take it from here. Preferably BEFORE you all convince her that I'm a wolf in a man's clothing."

"Oh, you ain't no big bad wolf," Lizzie snorted from the tub. "More like the fox hidin' out in the henhouse."

Biting her lip to keep her laughter in check, Emily murmured, "Good luck."

"You'll need it," JJ chuckled, following Emily toward the door.

Staring up into David Rossi's unreadable eyes, Penelope smiled sweetly. "You know, I can make death look like your best option with a few clicks of my mouse, right?"

"I'm aware," Dave returned pleasantly.

"Good," Garcia replied, nodding approvingly as she patted his chest. "As long as we understand each other." Looking over her shoulder, Penelope called, her voice bouncing off the walls, "Call me in the morning, Sweetness. And remember, even the big bad wolf can be taught to be good."

Moments later, silence reigned in the small apartment as Dave stepped into the tiny bathroom. "Ready to come out yet?" he asked, peering into the tub to find Lizzie curled into a small ball, her arms wrapped around her legs as she stared defiantly up at him.

"Do I have to?" Lizzie muttered, tightening her grip around her legs.

"Unless you'd like me to join you in there, I'd suggest it," Dave replied easily. Cocking his head, he grinned. "It could be fun. You. Me. Tight space."

"I'm comin' out," Lizzie yelped, gripping the shower curtain as she quickly propelled herself into an upright position. Unfortunately, she didn't anticipate the numbness of her legs as she stood. Eyes widening, she barely managed a whimper as she tumbled forward, caught quickly within the strong arms of her fiancée.


	39. Chapter 39

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Thirty-Nine**

Tightening his grip on the squirming bundle in his arms, relieved he had caught her, Dave muttered, "Woman, you are a menace to society at large, not to mention what you do to me!" Lifting her easily over the edge of the tub, he lowered her legs to the floor, but kept his arms around her. "Okay?" he asked, staring down into her wide green eyes.

"I reckon," Lizzie murmured breathlessly, her hands pressed against his warm chest. "I just needed to get my land legs back. I don't want to fall."

Nodding, Dave sighed, realizing the hidden meaning behind those words. "Honey, don't you think it's time we talked?"

"Hmmph," Lizzie snorted, jerking her head back. "You don't know how to talk, David. You preach…and preach…and preach. Seems to me that I've had some poor soul preachin' to me all my life."

"I'm the last person that could be categorized as a preacher, Lizzie, so how about I listen now while you talk?" Rossi said calmly, shifting his legs to settle her a bit closer. Surprised when she didn't immediately pull away, he continued, slowly, "You can tell me whatever you want, Lizzie. There's nothing that's gonna scare me away or make me think any less of you."

"Pretty words, Rossi. Momma could grow her prize roses in that fertilizer you're spreadin," Lizzie snorted, leaning her head against his chest in spite of herself. Damn, this man was comfortable, she thought with a sigh. A girl could just lose herself in his arms.

"Your mother's gardening habits aside, why don't we have a conversation with just you and me? Let's leave your parents out of it, and you tell me what YOU want, Lizzie, not what they want," Rossi said firmly, tired of hearing about her sanctimonious father and her antebellum mother's views.

Jerking her head up, Lizzie met his dark eyes, her mouth twitching from side to side as she measured his words, a retort just waiting on the tip of her tongue. Finally, she muttered, "Momma and Daddy taught me everything I know, Dave, so I don't think I can throw the baby out with the bathwater that easily."

Sinking down on the closed commode, Rossi leaned back, pulling her with him as he settled her on his knees, one arm wrapped solidly around her petite frame. "Yeah, you can. You've never had a problem telling me what you thought before, Lizzie, and I want to know that now. And let's start with the most important question. Do you want to marry me, Lizzie?"

Burying her head against the warm cotton of his shirt, Lizzie groaned. "I don't WANNA marry anybody! I know too much about what happens afterward to ever willingly wanna do that. I'm not a big believer to signin' my name to checks I can't cash."

Gripping her shoulders gently to ease her back so he could stare down into her eyes, Dave frowned. "There isn't one word in there that I understood, Lizzie. What do you mean "what happens afterward"?"

"You KNOW what I'm talkin' about," Lizzie muttered, flushing as his eyes focused on her. "The sacred part," she whispered. Tightening her fingers in his shirt, she whispered, "I wouldn't get a blame tattoo cause I knew it was gonna hurt…and I didn't need to have gotten one before to know it. All I had to hear was that needles were involved. I know what happens in the marriage bed! I experienced it firsthand. It was horrible," she whispered, finally forcing her wild eyes to his as she shuddered convulsively.

Tamping down the anger wanting to make an appearance again at the thoughts of her past, Rossi said, as gently as possible, " Elizabeth, what happened to you was not anywhere near the relationship a man and a woman share when they care about each other. What happened to you was rape."

Scrunching her forehead as she clenched his shirt tighter, she shook her head violently, "He did those same things. The same things you're gonna want to do."

Her words, though spoken low, seemed to bounce around the small room, echoing in his ears.

"Honey, listen to me," Rossi demanded softly, shifting his fingers to her cheek, stroking gently. "Rape isn't making love. It's violence. And anything that you and I share will be pleasurable for you because you want to do it."

"That's what he kept telling me," Lizzie said almost woodenly, her mind flipping back and forth from the present to the past. "He kept tellin' me I wanted it. Over and over again."

"He lied," Rossi said simply, anger filling his every syllable. "No woman asks for what happened to you, honey, and if I ever get my hands on that bastard, he'll find out what proper respect means." Feeling Lizzie stiffen even more, her body ramrod straight in his arms, he forced himself to relax, sweeping delicate fingers against her back as he added, softly, "Hey, honey, don't let yourself go there. He can't hurt you anymore. All that matters now is that you're here, now. Hotch and I are never going to let anything like that happen to you again."

She shuddered again, dropping her eyes as she whispered, "It doesn't matter anyway. I can't feel …down there….anymore."

His mind automatically flashed to those long heated moments when he'd held her writhing body against his on the couch at Little Creek. In vivid detail, he could recall her soft moans, her flushed cheeks, her hitched breath as she'd climaxed against him. And he smiled. "Trust me, Sweetheart, you very definitely still have sensation below the waist. You proved that to me when I held you in my arms last night."

Dropping her head against his chest, Lizzie squeezed her eyes closed. "I guess I'm gonna have to trust you on that."

"You don't remember?" Dave asked, mildly disappointed as his gaze dropped to the red head resting against him.

"Bits and pieces…but nothin' clearly after your girlfriend called," Lizzie mumbled, sighing as she felt his warm palms sliding up and down her back. Lord, but that man did have talented hands.

Rolling his eyes as a smile tugged at his lips, Dave groaned. "Babe, she wasn't my girlfriend. Not then and not now."

"Fine then," Lizzie sputtered. "Your concubine, then."

Laughing outright, Dave held Lizzie closer as he dropped a kiss against her soft curls. "That was a long time ago, Elizabeth. I promise, honey, I'll be entirely faithful once you agree to marry me."

"You sure will," Lizzie declared petulantly, her ire rising once again as she jerked her eyes back to his, straightening in his lap. "Or you'll be the one facin' the business end of my gun…and I won't be aimin' for your butt either!"


	40. Chapter 40

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Forty**

"So," Dave drawled with a growing smile, his hands sliding soothingly along her slowly relaxing back, "does that mean that you're definitely agreeing to be my wife."

"I reckon," Lizzie grumbled, rolling her eyes. "I certainly don't think I can do any worse than you."

"High praise," Dave murmured with a chuckle, incredibly relieved for some unexplainable reason. Wriggling his eyebrows, he added, confidently, "Now, back to that little comment about you being dead from the waist down…I think you and I need to hold a little experiment of our own."

Suspicious now, Lizzie slowly pulled away from him, dropping her feet to the floor as she perched on his knee. "What kind of experiment? You weren't real happy about the ones I had planned earlier tonight."

Shaking his head, he answered, "No, honey, I just wasn't thrilled with who you wanted to do them with. I think experimenting is a fine idea. I'm just going to have to insist that you confine your lab partners to me alone."

"So whattya have planned for this private research?" Lizzie asked, suddenly gasping as she felt his fingers dip under her short blouse, tickling her bare sides. Jerking away from his inquisitive fingers, she giggled, "And quit that! You're distractin' me!"

"No, I'm getting your attention," Rossi replied, grinning as he let his fingers trail light patterns against her sensitive skin. Reaching the edge of her rib cage, the slight dip in her skin beckoning him even more, her responding giggle was like music to his ears. Leaning forward, he bent her back slightly as he said, wriggling his eyebrows, "This is phase one of our little adventure, honey."

Staring up into those amazing black eyes of his, Lizzie felt herself collapse slightly as he shifted her, shifted them both. Grabbing for his arms, she squeaked, "Dave! I'm falling!"

Tightening his grip as he pulled her closer, Rossi smiled down into her surprised green eyes. "I've got you, Lizzie. And I'm not going to let go." Tucking her slight body closer, he stood up easily, swinging her up into his arms as he said, "But I don't think your powder room's got enough room for what I have planned."

Gasping as her feet suddenly left the ground, her eyes rounded as his lips descended towards hers and his feet quickly ate the distance to her bedroom. Finally releasing her lips as he lowered her to her soft mattress, Lizzie looked quickly around. "Now you're just crazy as a June bug if you think we're gonna…"

Sitting on the edge of her mattress, Dave leaned over, quickly covering her mouth. "Experimenting, remember? I'm on a mission."

"Ain't no Bible trip ever ended like this," Lizzie replied quickly, pulling her lips from his. "Mission, my foot!"

"I'm on a mission to prove you wrong, Elizabeth Grace," Dave said, semi-seriously. "I'm willing to bet if you give me one hour, I'll have you convinced that you definitely not only have feeling below the waist, but that they're ones that you'll enjoy, too."

"Impossible," Lizzie said quickly, rejecting his supposition. Shimmying against her comforter, she reached for an overstuffed pillow, intending on putting some barrier between her and this dark-eyed Lothario.

Fingering a curl before tucking it gently behind her ear, Dave grinned. "There's only one way to prove me wrong, Elizabeth."

"Don't you think I've gotten in enough trouble by makin' deals with the Devil?" Lizzie asked on a sigh, collapsing against the pillows at the head of her bed as he pulled her stuffed weapon from her hands.

"I think in a few short days, we're gonna be married, babe," Dave answered, tossing the small pillow to the end of the bed. "I think we ought to get to know each other first. And that starts with intimacy."

"Don't couples usually build up to that?" Lizzie asked uncomfortably, the thoughts of any form of intimacy still a bit scary to her.

"We're on a tight schedule," Dave grinned. "Besides, I'm not going to let you go on thinking things that are just untrue, Elizabeth. Not when I can show you how wrong you are," Dave reasoned patiently. Seeing the uncertain look on her face, Dave whispered, "Lizzie, jokes aside, honey, you trust me, don't you? Trust me not to hurt you?"

"I don't think you're like that other man," Lizzie said softly, looking away, staring at the print of pink roses hanging on her wall. "I don't think you'd hurt me on purpose."

"I'm not going to hurt you at ALL, Elizabeth. I promise. And all you ever have to do is say stop. Just that one word. I swear," Dave assured her calmly, rubbing his thumb against her soft cheek.

"What would you wanna do to me?" Lizzie asked suspiciously, not entirely comfortable, but curious nevertheless.

"Anything that you want to do, honey," Rossi said easily, sliding slow fingers down her arm. "And nothing you don't want to do. But most of all, I just want you to relax. Relax and let me prove to you that you are an amazing, sensuous woman."

Shivering as his fingers worked their way back underneath her blouse, trailing paths around her tummy, touching skin she wasn't even sure had ever seen daylight, she moaned at the shivers, looking up into his face, "Why are you smilin' like a goat in a briarpatch? What's so goshdurned funny to you?"

Easing down on the bed beside her, his fingers deftly popping the small buttons to her cotton blouse, Rossi replied, his smile growing by the second, "Nothing's funny, honey. I'm just glad to see that our experiment is progressing nicely."

Drawing in a sharp breath as he pulled her shirt to the side and settled a warm hand on her taut tummy, Lizzie felt an unfamiliar heat settling in places she had thought were off the radar…way, way, way off the radar. Turning automatically toward him, unable to stop herself, she stammered, "What…what are you doing to me now?"

"Something happening?" Rossi asked with a knowing grin, his eyes drawn to her perfect bosom, barely covered by a scrap of white cotton. Sliding a finger up to the center catch, he added, "You can talk to me, Lizzie. Tell me what you're feeling. You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Even a blind hog finds an acorn every now and again," Lizzie gasped as his fingertip expertly passed over one rucked nipple.

Chuckling softly, Dave shook his head. "I have no idea what in the hell you just said, but right now, I don't think I care," he breathed, dipping his head to nuzzle her neck as his fingers released the clasp on her bra. Palming a warm breast in his hand, Dave trailed his lips down the slope of Lizzie's neck and over the soft swell of her breast. "All you have to say is stop, sweetheart. Any time you want," he reminded her before surrounding one perfect pink tip with his mouth.


	41. Chapter 41

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Forty-One**

"Oh my," Lizzie breathed as her fingers dug into the comforter beneath her, the heavy fabric bunching around her as she wriggled closer to his touch.

"Okay?" Dave asked around her breast as his hands slid down her bare sides to cup her hips, holding her gently as he lavished attention on her.

"Right as rain," Lizzie replied, her voice high as his tongue rasped against her. Catching her breath as he switched his attention to the other side, she tried to ease away from the growing proof of his arousal, her thoughts running rampant.

Feeling Lizzie shift underneath him, Dave pulled away to meet her wary eyes. "It's okay, Elizabeth," he murmured, brushing a gentle kiss against her parted lips. Watching as her lids fell closed again, he deepened the kiss, slowly twining his tongue around hers as he inserted a muscular thigh between her splayed legs, exerting just the barest hint of pressure at the right point.

"Oh!" Lizzie gasped as her eyes popped open, staring up into his dark black orbs. This entire situation seemed surreal to her, a dream. And yet, here she was, in her bed, with the man she was going to marry. And he was making her feel better than a pig lying in mud on a hot day in Georgia!

Smiling, David brushed another kiss against her cheek, his lips lingering against her petal soft skin. "That sounded like a good "oh", honey."

"Surprise…" Lizzie whispered, struggling for air as his thigh shifted against her again, another rising tide of feeling flooding her. "That was surprise."

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he whispered against her ear, nipping her lobe gently.

"Mmmm…I'm not sure how to describe it," Lizzie admitted shakily, her tongue seeming to catch against her lips.

Trailing warm fingers down her stomach, he paused at the waist of her leggings. "Elizabeth, I want you to trust me, okay? Just for the next few seconds, trust that I'm not going to hurt you."

Squeezing her eyes shut, Lizzie nodded. Eyes popping open a moment later, Lizzie eyes widened as Dave slowly slid her leggings off. "What are you doin'? Have you forgotten yourself, sir?" she gasped, reaching blindly for a grasp of fabric, of anything that would keep her covered.

"Haven't forgotten a thing, honey," Dave assured her easily, sliding back up her body, still fully clothed. "We're just gettin' more comfortable. And you promised to trust me," he reminded her, staring down at her body, now clad in nothing but the sheerest lace panties he believed he'd ever seen.

"Hard to do when I'm the only one layin' here naked as a jaybird," Lizzie snorted, retreating behind her barbed attitude. Surely she should be could, shouldn't she? And yet, all she felt was the heat coming from his strong body, warming her just by his very presence.

"You aren't quite bare yet, babe. And we can fix that problem fairly easily, Elizabeth," Dave murmured, settling against her as he dropped a kiss to her pouting lips. Pulling her hesitant hands to his chest, Dave flicked open the first button of his shirt for her. "If you don't want to be the only one nude, honey, do something about it. Touch me," he ordered against her lips.

Jerking her fingers back like she'd been scalded, Lizzie sputtered, eyes wide, "I can't! Touching a boy is what gets a girl in trouble!"

Holding tight to her hand, Rossi trailed slow kisses against her cheek, sliding against her lips as he said, "Understand this, Lizzie. The last time I was called a boy, I was twelve years old. And there's not going to be any trouble, remember? Just feeling. And whatever else you want."

Letting him guide her stiff fingers back to the small buttons, Lizzie whispered, tremulously, "But Dave, I've never….I've never touched a man's body like this…like you're touching me."

"That's why we're taking it slow, honey," he assured her, holding his breath as he felt her fingers slowly sliding his shirt apart, her questing touch sliding against his bare chest. Smiling down at her surprised eyes, he murmured, "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Nodding, she ventured farther, muttering, "How many darned buttons does this old shirt have, anyway?" But suddenly, when she reached the last one and his shirt hung open, she whispered, her hands pressing against his chest, "You're all…hard…"

"You have no idea," he muttered, then caught himself as her inquisitive eyes flashed back to his. Covering her dainty fingers with his, he slid them across his chest, drawing in a deep breath as her soft skin touched his. "See, honey, you do things to me, too."

"I'm not tryin' to," Lizzie replied plaintively. "Honestly, I'm not," she whispered, lifting wide eyes to his as her fingers tangled in the mat of hair on his chest.

Though his body raged, Dave reminded himself that the name of the game was control tonight. At least where his needs were concerned. "You don't have to try, sweetheart," Dave said softly, pressing a kiss to the rapidly throbbing pulse in her neck. "You've got a gift."

"Can I return it?" Lizzie asked breathlessly as his other hand sketched patterns against her sensitive abdomen.

"'Fraid not, honey," Dave whispered, sipping her lips again as his fingers trailed lower, slipping past the elastic band of her panties. His fingers skirted around downy soft curls as he asked, "Still trust me?"

Catching her breath, Lizzie swallowed. "Uh huh," she nodded, staring into the dark glittering eyes hovering above her, something just telling her that she was making the right choice.

"Just remember, Elizabeth, if it hurts…if you're scared, all you need to do is say stop," Dave replied gently.

Holding her breath as she felt his warm fingertips slowly touch her, Lizzie nodded. Eyes widening as he parted her folds, she felt one calloused fingertip stroking against something so incredibly sensitive that she arched against his hand. "Dave!" Lizzie whispered frantically.

Stroking her swollen bud again with one fingertip, Dave watched Lizzie face flush with passion as her body turned toward him, her aroused breasts scraping against his chest. "Shhh," he hushed her, tenderly kissing her temple. "Does this hurt?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. Her saturated folds told him all he needed to know.

"N-no," Lizzie rasped, bucking her hips against his hand as his fingers flicked against her again. "Wh-what is that? Wh-what are you doin' to me down th-there?"

Flicking her soft bud again with his fingers, Dave smiled against her lips. "Well, right now, I'm pressing a hidden button that from this moment forward only I get to push. You like what happens when I push, honey?" he asked, torturously circling his thumb around that throbbing spot.

Digging her nails into his bare shoulders, Lizzie nodded frantically. "F-feels g-good."

Easing her back onto her back, Dave slowly tangled his tongue with hers again, settling his body half over hers. Tearing his lips away from their deep kiss, he vowed darkly, "Well, if you liked that, you should love this." Watching her face, he slowly sank one finger inside her snug heat, closing his eyes briefly as her warm, wet heat sucked at his finger.

And Elizabeth Grace Winstead knew, at that precise moment, that she had just sealed her deal with the devil in human form.


	42. Chapter 42

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Forty-Two**

"Oh, sweet Lord," Lizzie panted, arching her hips as his talented finger curled inside her, touching a spot so sensitive she fought a rising scream.

Dave watched as Lizzie pressed her lips together, and he grinned. Licking the tight seam of those beautiful lips, he gently bit at her full lower lip. "Talk to me, honey. Tell me if you like what I'm doing," he urged softly, his words floating against her skin.

"Uh huh," Lizzie whimpered as she felt his hard length probing her hip again. Lifting her closed lids, she focused glazed eyes on him. "You're hard again."

Nibbling her neck, Dave nodded. "All that is, sweetheart, is my body's way of saying how much it wants you. I can't control its response…but I can control my actions. You're safe," Dave promised, using his thumb to rub circles around that tight bud as he added another finger to her heat. Hearing her satisfied mew of pleasure, Dave couldn't help his own low groan. "God, I want you, Elizabeth," he whispered, covering her mouth again.

Her tongue met his without coaxing this time, her mouth readily opening to receive his kiss. Lifting her hips against his hand, Lizzie clung to his neck. "It's getting bigger," she moaned, unable to stop herself from pressing against him, against his arousal.

"Mmmm hmmm," Dave nodded, darting his tongue out to curl around one pink tipped nipple. "There's only two things that make that swelling go down, babe."

"Wh-what are they?" Lizzie asked, swallowing as she struggled not to drown in those dark smoldering looks he kept giving her. Although she wasn't sure how she was still even capable of uttering a single word, considering her traitorous body was doing its dead-level best to drive all coherent thought out of her mind.

"One is time," Dave whispered against her ear, smiling as her hips jerked as his thumb tapped against that sensitive bud between her legs again. Damn, he thought with a mental shake of his head. He wasn't sure he had ever been with a woman as responsive as she was.

"Wh-what's the other?" Lizzie panted, straining against his wicked ministrations, searching for words, her mind frantically trying to compete with her body, and losing mightily.

"Your touch, sweetheart. Your touch can ease me," Dave explained tenderly, biting back a moan at the thoughts of her tiny fingers actually taking him in hand. "Tell me, honey…you want to try touching me?"

"I …I don't know if I can….," she mumbled, losing her thoughts as she felt another wave of pleasure roll that tender spot that he was tapping. Finally jerking her eyes back to his, she whispered, "I…don't know how…."

Drawing in a sharp breath as she tilted her knee, dragging her leg against his crotch, he dropped a soft kiss to her chin as he said, "I'll show you, Lizzie. Remember, we're doing this together, right?"

Nodding, her red curls bouncing against the pillowcase, she asked, hesitantly, "But what if…what if I get it wrong?" Dropping her head, almost ashamed of her lack of experience, she muttered, "What if I can't make you feel like…."

"Babe, there's no way you're going to make me feel anything other than wonderful," Dave assured her, tilting her chin up, drawing her eyes to his. Slowing his touches against her heated core, he added, softly, "But it's what you want, Lizzie. Your choice."

Shifting again, needing to be closer, to feel more of those amazing feelings, she whispered, honestly, "I want to try."

Kissing her as he released his belt and slowly eased the zipper of his straining fly down, Dave gently led her tiny hand to his heated flesh, wrapping her fingers around him and covering her hand with his as his other hand continued to pleasure her.

"You're hot," Lizzie murmured, eyes widening as she felt his velvety flesh against her palm, his arousal not at all what she had been expecting.

"Steaming," Dave agreed, brushing a kiss against her trembling lips. "You okay, sweetheart?"

Nodding as she stared down his body at what she held, she whispered, her words rushed as she fought her embarrassment, "What do I do to make you feel like I do?"

"I like to be stroked, too," Dave murmured, kissing the graceful slope of her neck as he guided her hand along his length.

"Like a cat," Lizzie said, more to herself than to him, letting her fingers slide in different directions. Suddenly, her frilly bedroom seemed to fade into the background, and all she could focus on was this man. This man that was taking her to places she had never, ever been before.

"Mmmm," Dave moaned as her smooth palm slid over him again.

"Am I doing it right?" Lizzie worried as she slowly learned the rhythm he taught her, all the while trying to control her own body as he continued to do things to her that she hadn't thought possible.

Releasing the hand holding hers to bury in her hair, Dave slid his mouth against hers. "So, so right, Elizabeth. Just relax, baby. Enjoy," he urged, bucking his hips against her hand as it brushed the sensitive head. "God, that's good," he grunted, hissing in a breath. Redoubling his efforts, Dave stroked her slick folds as she pleasured him.

Quickening the movements of his fingers, Lizzie whimpered in pleasure, throwing her head back as her grip around him tightened, her hand moving faster along his flesh, pumping him in her tiny hand. "David!" she wailed uncontrollably, feeling waves starting to rise throughout her entire body. How could she define this? How could she give words to what was happening to her? Caught on the precipice between pleasure and agony, all she knew was that she never wanted it to end.

Grunting in pleasure as her hand wrapped around him more firmly, Dave cupped her neck. "That's it, sweetheart. Give in to it."

Bucking her hips furiously as his fingers plunged in and out of her heat and his thumb swirled erotically around that hidden button she'd never known existed, Lizzie keened. "Don't stop! Oh please don't stop," she begged, tossing her head against the pillows.

Turning to lean over her, unwilling to miss watching the passion claim her in his arms, he dropped kisses along her craned neck. "I won't, honey. Just feel, Elizabeth."

Screaming as unexplainable pleasure suffused her, Lizzie lifted her head, blindly searching for his lips as lights flashed behind her closed lids. Seconds later as she collapsed back against the mattress, she felt Dave still straining in her hand, his body demanding her attention.

Turning her head, she whispered hoarsely, stroking his slick length, "How do I make you feel like that?"

"You already are," Dave groaned, lifting his hips against her touch. Jesus, how long had it been since he'd gotten off from a handjob? And this vixen and her velvety touch were reducing him to ashes.

"What else can I do?" she asked, rolling toward him.

"Kiss me, Elizabeth," he breathed, wrapping his hand around the nape of her neck and pulling her toward him.

Kissing him deeply, Lizzie drew back to stare at his tightened face. "You look like you're in pain," she whispered worriedly.

"Mmmm…the sweetest, sharpest kind of pain, Elizabeth," Dave panted, sweat rolling down his chest as her hand worked over him.

Looking down his body, Lizzie allowed curiosity to overcome her as she slithered down his body. Inhaling his musky scent as she hovered above his manhood, she heard him groan. Darting out her tongue to lick the tiny bead of moisture clinging to his tip, Dave groaned.

"God, yes, Elizabeth!" Dave hissed, his fingers gently stroking her cheek as a puzzled look crossed her beautiful face.

Flashing him an uncertain look, she whispered, "Salty. Should I do it again?"

"I'd love for you to do that again," Dave breathed, his entire body clenching in anticipation as her tongue slowly drew his purple head between her lips, swirling her pink tongue and suckling gently.

Slamming his eyes closed at the overwhelming sensations, Dave groaned. "Ahhhh! Damn! That's so good, sweetheart. Just like that."

Hearing his words of praise, Lizzie gained confidence, taking him a little deeper into her mouth. It was sort of like sucking a lollipop. And she'd always loved those. Unfortunately, the man in her bed was determined to pull her away from her newfound delight.

Tugging her arm, Dave moaned again as he watched her mouth ease over him again. "Lizzie, sweetheart, you have to pull back."

"Why?" she asked, confused as she pulled back just enough to ask her question.

"Honey, I'm gonna spill myself," Dave groaned, the tightness in his body undeniable. "Come here and kiss me, Lizzie," Dave panted, pulling her up his body as he convulsed. Seizing her lips with tender passion, he felt his body's release…knew that he'd lost himself on her creamy skin.

And, damn, if he didn't want to gain his breath and do it all again.


	43. Chapter 43

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Forty-Three**

Finally convincing himself to tear his lips away from hers, Dave sighed as her head dropped against his neck, her naked body blanketing him.

"I'm sticky," Lizzie mumbled against his throat, her words barely audible. "And sleepy."

"Shhh, sweetheart," Dave soothed, rubbing his hand along her fragile spine, her slight weight against him a comfort he hadn't experienced in years. "I'll take care of it," he whispered, easing her to the side as he stood, hitching his pants back over his hips. "I'll be right back."

Moments later, he returned to the bedroom to find Lizzie dozing on top of the covers of her bed, her cheeks pink and a slight smile on her lips. Gently running the warm washcloth over her stomach, he watched her dazed eyes flutter open.

"How do you feel, honey?"

"Happy as a dead pig in the sunshine," Lizzie murmured, smiling softly.

"I hope that's a good thing, because honestly, I have no idea," Dave said, returning her smile as he tucked a curl behind her ear.

"Very good," Lizzie nodded. "I didn't know it felt like that."

"That's how it's supposed to feel every time…in fact, it gets better," Dave murmured gently.

"Really?" Lizzie asked incredulously.

"Uh huh," Dave nodded solemnly.

"Maybe this marriage business won't be so bad after all," Lizzie sighed, yawning sleepily.

"You need to get some rest, honey. We're gonna have a long few days ahead of us," Dave said, trying to prepare her.

Biting her lower lip, Lizzie eyes him uncertainly.

"What?" Dave whispered, reaching out a finger to soothe the offended lip.

"Will you stay? Tonight…with me?" Lizzie asked softly.

"There's no place else I'd rather be," Dave replied quietly, slowly stretching out beside her and pulling her pliant body against his. "Absolutely no place else," he whispered against her temple.

Sighing as she felt him settled behind her, Lizzie let herself fall back against him, tucking as close as she could. Never in her life had she felt like those….felt so…satisfied. And she knew that she never wanted that feeling to fade. Whispering into the darkness, she asked, "You promise you'll be here in the morning?"

Hearing her words, Dave couldn't help the clench in his heart, wondering how badly hurt she'd been in the past. He had a feeling he didn't know the half of the story. Sliding his fingers against her bare arm, he assured her, voice soft, "I'm not leaving you, Lizzie. I'm perfectly content to stay with you for the rest of my life." Deciding then that this was the perfect time to give her that certain item he had bought earlier today, he added, smiling, "And by the way, I think we missed something important earlier."

Turning in his arms, Lizzie stared up into his face, the city lights and moonlight streaming through the blind covered windows. "You mean there's more? Didn't we…didn't we …do…everything? We can't…we can't do …that…yet!"

Smiling down at her scrunched face, Rossi shook his head as he slipped a hand into his pocket. "No, babe, we're not going to go that far until you're completely ready." Popping the small velvet box, he said, a grin widening on his lips, "But I think you might be ready for this now."

Staring down at the flashing diamond, the large stone evident even in the minimal light, Lizzie felt her eyes widen as she jerked up in bed. Slapping a hand to her cheek, she said, surprised, "Oh my Lord, you robbed a jewelry store! God's gonna strike you dead for that, David Rossi, and I'm not gonna be anywhere near when that happens."

"Would you please quit calling down lightning strikes from heaven every time you don't agree with me?" Rossi grumbled, grabbing her and tucking her back against him. Her naked body was a sight to behold, and he was not going to let such a gift go to waste. "I think you learned from the ladies earlier that I'm not exactly a pauper, Elizabeth. I can afford this ring and anything else you want."

Reluctantly dropping her head back to rest on his shoulder, Lizzie asked, hesitantly, "You sure you want to give this to me? I mean, I'd be happy with a little thing, it doesn't have to be so fancy. This must have set you back a pretty penny and…"

"And it's exactly what I want you to have," Dave said firmly, sliding the diamond onto her left hand, releasing a pent up breath when it fit perfectly. He had to remember to thank Aaron for helping decide on the size.

Holding her hand up in the stray beam of light, Lizzie couldn't stop the grin that started spreading on her face as she said, almost in awe, "I don't think I've ever seen a pretty so big." Turning to him, she said, giggling, "And won't Ginger Sue be so jealous when she sees this ring? She always thought that little diamond chip her husband gave her was right up there with something Prince Charles gave Princess Diana!"

"Well, I don't know who Ginger Sue is or who her husband's jeweler was…" Dave began.

Snorting, Lizzie tucked closer as she pressed her hand to his chest, adding, "They wouldn't know a jeweler if it came up and slapped 'em upside the head, unless you're countin' the woman behind the counter at Kmart!"

Rolling his eyes, Dave tried to stop his grin as he said, evenly, "Be that as it may, you don't have to worry about comparing yourself to anyone. You're perfect, Lizzie, and you deserve the most perfect ring in the world."

"Your silver tongue could pave a dirt road with gold and rubies," Lizzie snarked, unable to accept the compliment.

"I'm not saying anything that's not true," Dave assured her, then pulled the covers around them, tucking her tightly against him. "Now close your eyes, sweetheart. I wasn't kidding when I said that the next few days are going to be difficult."

Nodding once as she heard his words, Lizzie let out a deep breath, pressing her cheek against his chest.

And she fell asleep listening to the strong beat of David Rossi's heart.


	44. Chapter 44

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Forty-Four**

Slipping further underneath the covers, Lizzie tried to cover her ears at the incessant ringing she could hear somewhere in the distance. But no matter how many pillows and covers she piled over her ears, that infernal noise wouldn't stop. Finally sighing, she slapped a hand out, thinking that she would bang whatever it was into submission. But all she managed to do was hit a solid object. A very solid, warm, immovable object.

And suddenly, the racket stopped. Letting out a sigh of relief, she let herself collapse back against her pillow. And against the very warm body of the man beside her. She could feel his chest rumble as she pressed her hand against it, and her sleep-ridden mind finally deduced that he was talking on the phone. And by the words she was hearing, he was doing more than talking. Whoever was on the other end was apparently not satisfied with what he was saying.

Suddenly, the comforter was pulled away from her face, and she found herself staring up into the dark eyes of her fiancée. And he was holding the phone out in her direction.

Swatting that infernal object away, she whispered, loudly, "Who's callin' at the crack of dawn? The chickens aren't even up yet, Dave, which means I ain't either!"

"I'm well aware of the time, Lizzie," he said with a yawn, doubling his pillow and shoving it behind his head. "But apparently Penelope Garcia thinks it's a perfect time to check on her favorite person. And she's not taking my word that you're alive and well. She demands to talk to you, honey."

Sleepily accepting the phone from his hand as she watched his head fall back against the pillows with a groan, she offered a tentative, "Hello."

"Peaches!" Penelope chirped with more energy than anyone should have before daylight. "You had a slumber party last night and didn't invite any of us to stay?" she teased, her words floating through the phone line. "I'm hurt, deeply hurt."

"I can explain," Lizzie faltered, flushing with embarrassment as turned away from Dave, not wanting to see the smirking face of her fiancée.

"I'm wa-iting," Penelope sang.

"Uhmm…can I have the morning to think of an adequate excuse?" Lizzie asked, rolling her eyes as her friend laughed.

"No need," Pen chuckled, her simple words informing the younger woman that her imagination was firmly at work. "But did my words last night prove prophetic?"

"Huh?" Lizzie grunted, wondering how this infernal woman could hold a coherent conversation this time of the day. And if David Rossi didn't quit pulling her back against him, she wasn't going to be able to think of a single word at all!

"Is he really a god in bed?" Penelope mock whispered.

"Penny, really! You are chugged full of yourself this mornin'," Lizzie replied, stifling a yelp as cold fingers started sliding against her arm.

"Hmmm, but that begs the question. What were you full of last night…or should I revise that to who were you full of last night?" Penelope asked mischievously.

"Penny!" Lizzie yelped, scandalized at the thought, even as she swatted away that questing hand.

"Oh, phooey! I'm getting nothing out of you."

"Did you call for a reason, Penny?" Lizzie asked, catching her breath as Dave threw an arm over her waist, hauling her against his warm body.

"Yeah…team's decided to take you two lovebirds out to breakfast to celebrate. Hastings at ten sharp," Penelope ordered. "And tell Rossi it isn't negotiable," Pen ordered, her tone brooking no argument from anyone.

"I'll tell him, Penny," Lizzie replied breathlessly as Dave's lips found her neck, biting softly at the sensitive skin as his hands caressed her bare stomach under the covers.

"Tell her you have to go now," Dave whispered against her ear, hot breath fanning her cool flesh.

"I-I'll see you then, Penny," Lizzie faltered, the words stumbling out of her mouth as she tried to clear her focus. But if he kept this up, she wasn't going to be able to keep a single thought in her darned mind!

"Toodles, Peaches," Penelope chirped, laughter filling her voice as she disconnected.

Turning in Dave's arms as she dropped the cordless phone to the bed, Lizzie swatted the broad chest in front of her. "David Rossi, you're worse than a dog in heat!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, honey," Rossi murmured, sliding his kisses down her delicate neck, his lips pressing against just the right places. "I'm just giving my fiancée a proper good morning wake up."

Feeling herself start to melt as his tongue traced a path around the shell of her ear, Lizzie sunk against him, unable to stop herself as she breathed, "Is this going to be anything like the nighttime story you told me to put me to sleep?"

"It can be if you want it to be," Rossi whispered in her ear, pulling her soft, pliant body in line with his, settling a strong hand against her bare hip.

Her eyes widened suddenly as she felt him pressing against her, his arousal obvious to her now. Jerking her eyes back to his, she stammered, "Are you …are you always like this? Does your …does your body always do that?"

Catching her meaning easily, Rossi took her small hand in his, sliding it down his stomach to press against the front of his jeans. "Like I told you last night, honey, this is how I respond to you. And a lot of men have this response in the morning."

Blinking as she stared into his deep black eyes, her small fingers cupping around his zipper, she said with a growing smile, "I have a feeling there's a lot of things about you that I'm gonna have to learn, right?"

"I have a feeling that you're really gonna enjoy the lessons, honey," Rossi replied, matching her grin as he buried a hand in her hair, gently tugging her closer as he sealed their lips in a good morning kiss.

Groaning against his lips as she opened her mouth against his questing tongue, Lizzie felt herself sinking deeper and deeper into the perfect warmth he was creating, only to hear the faint ringing of the phone. Again.

"Ignore it," Dave ordered gruffly, tugging at her lower lip gently with his teeth. "Whoever it is will still be around in an hour."

Turning her face away from him, Lizzie shook her head, pointing toward the ringing phone. "We can't! It could be Daddy. And I don't relish the thought of explainin' to him two days in a row why I'm in your bed."

Reaching for the phone, Dave chuckled. "Well, this time I'm in your bed, Elizabeth."

"Yeah. That's worse, Dave," Lizzie grumbled, snatching the phone out of his hand. "Hello," she said breathlessly as Dave's head dipped to surround one quivering breast with his lips. "Daddy!" Lizzie yelped, smacking his shoulder violently. "Good mornin'!"


	45. Chapter 45

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Forty-Five**

Lord have mercy, it would be her daddy calling on the very morning she woke up with a man in her bed! Releasing a relieved breath as Dave quit his subtle torture and flopped back against the pillows, Lizzie listened to her father's authoritative voice at the other end of the phone.

Watching her face carefully, fully prepared to rip the phone out of her hands if she became the slightest bit anxious, Dave was surprised to see Lizzie slowly relaxing. His previous experience with the elder Winstead had taught him that Lizzie was not normally settled or loosened in her father's presence. But he'd be damned if that man ruined the good morning he was intending to see that his fiancée had.

"Of course I plan on talkin' to Momma today," Lizzie said into the phone, nodding her head as she listened closely, her teeth worrying her lower lip. "Yes, I'm gonna be headin' home to Piermont just as soon as we can get things settled up here, Daddy."

Raising an eyebrow as he heard her agree to that little trip, Rossi propped up on his elbow, reaching out to tap her nose with his finger as he whispered, "Going on a safari without me, honey?"

Shushing him by slapping her hand firmly against his mouth, Lizzie kept the phone pressed firmly to her ear, listening for another minute before a bright smile suddenly landed on her lips. "Well, you be safe too, Daddy, and drive carefully. Tell Momma to get my old room ready, okay? Yes, I think you'll make it back before church services tonight. I love you too, Daddy."

Flicking the palm of her hand with his tongue as he watched her drop the phone on the floor beside the bed, Rossi asked, eyebrow raised, "I take it your father's leaving our fair city? Please say yes, babe."

Wriggling back next to him, Lizzie nodded, her tussled red curls sliding against his arm as she said, relief flooding her eyes and her words, "He's talked to cousin Aaron this morning already, and is heading back to Piermont. Now. "

Watching her grin widen as her eyes cleared of any shadows, he wriggled his eyebrows as he pulled her on top of him again, unable to stop the deep breath at the feel of her amazing body against his. "If I didn't know any better, Elizabeth Grace, I'd swear you were glad to see your father leaving."

"I am not," Lizzie yelped indignantly, tugging his chest hair as she glared at his laughing eyes. "Take that back!"

Capturing her flailing hands within his own easily, Dave pulled her forward to press a kiss to her lips. "I was teasing, Lizzie."

"You don't do such in the South! Besides, if Daddy stayed much longer, ya'll would be whippin' 'em out to see whose was biggest. Better that he go on home where Mama can deal with him," Lizzie reasoned, settling against the pillows again as she rolled to the side. "You'd better still be serious about marryin' me," Lizzie warned, her voice serious as she considered the coming days.

"As a heart attack, Babe," Dave nodded solemnly, silently adding to himself that it would now be a miracle if he'd ever let her go after his time in her sweet arms last night.

"Good. Because Mama's plannin' the wedding for Saturday afternoon. She'll have everything arranged in two shakes of a lamb's tail," Lizzie smiled, imagining the hustle and bustle her mother was probably already in the middle of. She had seen her dear mother plan family reunions for three hundred before, so this wedding should be fairly simple. And far more enjoyable.

"Your family doesn't waste any time," Dave said approvingly, sliding his fingers against her swanlike neck. "That part of their makeup I can get on board with."

"That's nice. I'll be leaving tomorrow," Lizzie informed him succinctly, pulling the covers more tightly around her bare body as she rolled to face him.

"Pardon me? You're leaving?" Dave asked with a frown, pulling up slightly as he furrowed his brow. "I'm not sure I'm on board with THAT!"

"Dave, I have to go home!" Lizzie exclaimed, her tone implying that he obviously was not understanding her at all. "I have to take care of the dress fittin' and help Mama with the last minute details. It's my duty. I can't just drop all of this in Mama's lap without doin' my part!"

The thoughts of spending a few days without her bubbling presence seemed to create a sudden void in his soul, leaving him already feeling a loss. Lacing his fingers with hers, he stared down into her bright green eyes as he asked, seriously, "You can't handle that stuff in just a day or so?"

"And miss my wedding shower? My aunt Maybelle's been waitin' my whole life to throw me a doozy of a shindig and I can't deny her that, now can I?" Lizzie asked, her eyelashes batting seductively against her pale skin. Leaning forward, she shimmied against the sheets as she added, grinning, "And besides, who knows what gifts we might get? With the sheer number of showers my Mama's thrown over the years, the paybacks alone will bring in eighty or ninety people easily."

"Honey, anything you want, I'll buy. Hell, we'll get two of them so you'll have a spare," Rossi assured her quickly, dropping a quick kiss to her forehead. "And we can get a dressmaker here in the District to whip out any dress you want. So I don't' see why you have to leave so quickly." Cocking an eyebrow as he leaned in to whisper in her ear, his hand sliding against the bare skin at her hip, "Besides, we're just getting to know each other."

"We can still spend time together, Dave," Lizzie said, shivering as his breath whispered against her earlobe. "And besides, you and Cousin Aaron have to be down in Piermont by Wednesday, so we'll only be apart for a few days."

"Say what?" Dave yelped, thoughts of being surrounded on all sides by Southerners intent on ending his existence on Earth enough to jerk him upright in the bed. "Sweetheart, I thought we'd just fly down Friday night and fly out Saturday night after the wedding. What in the world do I or you, for that matter, need to be there by Wednesday?"

"Why, you need to meet the family, of course," Lizzie said, tilting her head at him. "And there's a lot of us."

And that, David Rossi thought darkly, was his greatest fear. He was going to be a Northern Yankee in Queen Elizabeth's Court.


	46. Chapter 46

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Forty-Six**

"That's sorta my fear, Lizzie," Dave grumbled, tucking her pliant body closer as he felt his own body stirring in response. Damn, this tiny woman was going to be the death of him. But, he told himself with a grin, what a way to die, wrapped up in the arms of a beautiful woman.

"Pardon me. Aren't you just in high cotton," Lizzie snorted, rolling her eyes and smacking his chest as she warned, "Don't you act above your raisin', David Rossi."

"Honey, I'm not," Dave insisted, trying to pull her closer but finding that she was suddenly sitting up, glaring at him. Now, how had that happened? And what had she just done to his plans to spend the morning underneath her covers? Attempting to make peace, he threw up a hand as he said, protesting, "But these people are already going to be less than thrilled with me. You've made it real clear that I'm from the wrong side of the Mason-Dixon line."

"Well, as long as you don't go gallivantin' around Piermont spouting your Yankee nonsense, you'll be fine," Lizzie shrugged, running a hand through her tussled curls as she threw off the covers, shivering slightly as the heating unit kicked into gear.

"I don't spout and nothing I've ever said to you can be qualified as nonsense, Lizzie," Dave snorted, reaching over and trailing a finger down her delicate spine. Grinning as he watched her tremble at the very touch, he barely resisted the urge to grab her by the shoulders and tuck her back into bed. Of course, his head would be beside hers on that pillow, so to his way of thinking, it would be a win-win situation for both of them.

"Since when?" she asked, swatting his hand away.

"Since ever," Dave grumped, wondering how this Southern spitfire had managed to gain the upper hand, once again.

Pursing her lips, Lizzie gathered the sheet around her as she got out of bed, yanking heavily to pull it with her. Ignoring the feelings stirring in the pit of her tummy as she stomped around the room, she told herself that if she didn't get away from that infernal man's touch, she might never ever leave this room.

"Where are you going?" Dave asked with a yelp, sitting up in the bed as his eyes followed the redheaded ball of energy's brisk movements. Seriously, was this woman completely ignoring his well-laid plans to continue their little adventure from the night before?

"I'm goin' to breakfast and so are you," Lizzie replied over her shoulder, rummaging through the top drawer of her white dresser. "So I suggest you get up and get moving, or otherwise, Penny, Jayje, and Em might just make another visit over here to make sure you haven't kidnapped me. And you know those women won't take kindly to bein' kept waitin'!"

"Wait a second here, Elizabeth. You and I were in the middle of negotiations, honey," Dave reminded her, adding silently….and at the start of much more!

"Negotiations are over, Rossi. You're comin' to Piermont on Wednesday and I'm goin' tomorrow," Lizzie informed him quickly with a hard look, tucking the sheet up to her neck as she moved toward her sliding closet doors.

"I'll make you a deal, Lizzie," Dave bargained, tucking a pillow behind his back as he watched her cat-like movements with a practiced eyes. "I'll go to Piermont on Wednesday just like you say IF you'll wait a day or two and go with me. You wouldn't want me to get lost along the way, now would you?"

"Oh, no, Mister! You WILL be there on time if I have to deliver you to the great state of Georgia piece by piece!" Rolling her eyes as she tapped her bare foot impatiently against the taupe carpet of her bedroom, Lizzie finally sighed. "Fine, Dave. If the big bad FBI agent needs me to hold his hand on the two hour flight to Georgia, so be it."

"See, negotiations weren't so bad with me, were they?" Dave replied, winking at her as he rose from the bed, stretching his arms above his head as he grinned widely. "Now, what do you say we share that shower together?"

"I'd say that you have other things to do," Lizzie said, swaying from side to side as she smiled sweetly, having learned a few tricks of her own when dealing with the great David Rossi.

"I beg to differ, babe. There's nothing on my schedule but you this a.m.," Dave said, taking a step toward her, wriggling his eyebrows as he watched that sheet slip ever so slightly. Hell, even under that cotton wrap, he could still imagine that beautiful body. And he really wanted to see it up close and personal once again.

"No, BABE," Lizzie mimicked, shaking her head as her tussled curls fell around her shoulders, "YOU need to go hit up an ATM."

"What the hell for?" Dave asked, frowning, trying to remember if he had missed something financially important over the past few hours.

"Because, as of thirty seconds ago, you owe me $335 dollars for all the swear words that have come flyin' out of your mouth since you got here last night," Lizzie replied firmly, flouncing toward the door as she flipped on the overhead light.

Following her shapely rear down the hallway, sheet trailing behind her, Dave narrowed his eyes. "I'm proposing an addendum to that little racket you've got going! I shouldn't have to pay if you provoke me with tattoo parlors and strange men," Dave argued hotly, the very subject more than enough to raise his hackles once again, the thoughts of another man even seeing any part of her naked body too much to bear.

"Denied!" Lizzie said, rejecting his idea without consideration. "Besides, all that money is goin' to a worthy cause," she said turning to look at him as she walked into the bathroom, dropping the various items of clothes on the vanity.

Standing in front of her, just outside the doorway, Dave furrowed his brows. "And that would be?" he asked quickly.

"Why, our children's college fund, of course," Lizzie replied with a pretty smile before slamming the door in his face.

"Did she just say 'children'?" Dave whispered to himself with wide eyes as he once again found himself on the wrong side of that blasted bathroom door.


	47. Chapter 47

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Forty-Seven**

Rolling his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour, David Rossi slid his arm over the back of his fiancée's chair as he said with a long suffering sigh, "Lizzie, babe, how many times have we discussed this? We agreed. We're going down to Georgia on Tuesday now. You're going a day late, I'm going a day early. Remember? We negotiated."

Surely she remembered their earlier discussion, didn't she? But for the last hour and half, he had begun to realize that his future wife apparently had a very selective memory, choosing to recall only the details that suited her plans and not necessarily his. Throughout the entire group breakfast at the crowded family restaurant, she had chatted and discussed the wedding plans with the other female members of their team. And he had been on the receiving end of more than one strong lecture and well-delivered barb from the males of the group. And now that their group had dwindled down to just four, Lizzie had obviously once again changed her mind about the coming plans for the week.

Turning sharply to focus her laser like glare on him, the petite redhead smacked his chest with her ballpoint pen as she said, determinedly, "You just heard Penelope, Dave. She's on her way right now to call my Momma and work on the details. As soon as Momma gets home from church and gets dinner on the table, I can only imagine the havoc she and that techie whirlwind are gonna create with MY wedding. The sooner I get home, the sooner I can get a handle on how they've hijacked my special day. Goodness gracious! Penny'll probably have me walkin' down the aisle wearin' a pot of petunias on my head!"

"But Lizzie…." Rossi said, shifting his wooden chair against the stone floor, trying to keep her from attacking him with that infernal pen again. Grabbing her hand to forestall the next assault, he couldn't help but grin as he swept his finger against the engagement ring currently resting proudly on her left hand. His ring.

"Seriously, Lizzie," Emily said from across the table from her spot beside Aaron Hotchner, currently hiding a growing smile, "I'm sure that Garcia and your mother will develop a tasteful plan that will make you happy. They both have your best interests at heart."

"Yeah, and pigs are flying all around the Capitol right now, too," Lizzie said darkly, scribbling on her notepad as she made a note of a pertinent detail. Jerking her head up quickly, she added, firmly, "And they'd best not be touching my plans for the bridesmaids' dresses."

Opening his mouth to attempt to calm the firecracker beside him, Dave felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise to full attention as he heard a familiar trill above the busy restaurant around them.

"Da-vid! Dahhhling!" drawled a sultry feminine voice across the restaurant.

Quirking a dark brow heavenward, Emily stared across the table at a rapidly paling David Rossi as he stared in horror at the voluptuous woman currently walking toward their table, her hips swaying heavily from side to side, "Darling, Dave?"

"Oh God!" Dave whispered hoarsely, blinking rapidly as he prayed his mind was merely playing a vicious trick on him. Surely this was a living nightmare. Surely he was just sleep deprived, right? But then his oh-so-helpful mind reminded him that he had slept amazingly well the night before, wrapped up in the arms of the tiny woman beside him.

Jerking her head up from her notepad, Lizzie's eyes widened, her voice suspicious as she declared, "That voice! I've heard that voice before!"

Watching as the approaching woman finally reached the large round table, Dave could only gape, his world suddenly in slow motion as Lana Clayton slowly bent to drop a lingering wet kiss against his lips, whispering in a low growl, "Lover, I have missed you!"

Sputtering for a moment as his mind suddenly kicked back into gear, Rossi pushed away from the table and from the she-devil currently eying him like today's prime dessert selection. Wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, he muttered darkly, "Lana, I don't think…."

"Oh my sweet God up in heaven, this is her! This is her!" a shrill drawl came from his right side, causing his eyes to widen even more as he glanced sharply between the two women. And from what he was seeing, he was fairly certain that this was not going to be an amicable introduction.

"Dave," Lana said with a seductive purr, her deep blue eyes filled with wanton desire, "I just knew you'd be calling me back as soon as you got my message. You've never kept me waiting this long before, you naughty, naughty boy."

"I got your message, Lana," Dave acknowledged heavily, feeling Lizzie's small frame stiffening beside him. Smiling grimly, he turned to face his fiancée as he said, trying to evoke a calmness he definitely didn't feel, "Lizzie, honey, this is Lana. Lana, you already know Hotch, I think. And this is Emily Prentiss."

Merely acknowledging the others at the table with a slight nod of her regal head, the interloper turned her attention back to her prey as she placed a hand on his shoulder, bright red talons scraping down his shirt provocatively. "Now, David, you know I'm not into groups. I think I've proven that I'm more than handful for you, haven't I?"

"Lana, I don't think this is the time…." Dave began, only to be interrupted. By Lizzie. His fiancée. His obviously very agitated fiancée.

"Well," Lizzie said, rising from her chair to face the elegant woman in front of her, "I don't believe David gave you and I a proper introduction." Holding out the hand currently sporting the large sparkling diamond Dave had given her, she smiled ever so casually. "Elizabeth Winstead."

"Lana Clayton," the frosted blonde bombshell nodded, keeping one hand on Rossi's shoulder as she shook Lizzie's hand, quickly dropping it and dismissing the younger woman. "Dave and I go way back, don't we, lover?"


	48. Chapter 48

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Forty-Eight**

Catching sight of the way Lizzie's fist suddenly balled at her side, Dave tried to shrug off that oppressive hand resting against him as he said, quickly, "I, uh…Lana, perhaps…"

"Dave," Lizzie ordered softly, her tone suddenly steel, "be like the old lady that fell out the wagon, sugar, and shut up." Changing her tone back to one that could melt butter in her mouth, she added, smiling toward the older woman, "Lana and I are tryin' to get to know each other."

"Oh God," Dave groaned, trying again to brush Lana's hand off his shoulder. Catching Hotch's obvious glare, he tried to convey silently, his eyes wide, that he was not at fault here… couldn't the other man see that? He was the victim of an overactive stalker whose obvious intention was to ruin his life completely. There were laws against this, weren't there? Wasn't Hotch a lawyer? Couldn't he see the obvious injustice occurring right in front of his face?

Still smiling, Lizzie asked in a slow drawl, her voice deceptively calm, "How long exactly have you and Dave known each other, Lana?" Stepping closer to Dave, she pressed her knee against his leg, holding him in place as she realized he was shifting to move once again.

"Oh, honey! This fine specimen of a man and I have shared more than one trip around the world, if you know what I mean," Lana winked knowingly, stroking Dave's cheek as she shimmied closer, her stiletto heel tapping against the heavy tile floor.

Flinching as a fuschia painted talon slid down his face, Dave tried to stand only to feel Lizzie's hand drop to his shoulder, firmly pushing him back into his seat. Damn, when had that hundred pound tiny thing developed the strength of Sampson?

"So I heard," Lizzie winked back, seemingly conspiratorially, woman to woman. "I happened to be at his house when you called the other night. You're an adventuresome little bit, aren't you?"

Looking adoringly down at Dave as she ignored the tiny little gnat with the curly mass of red hair, Lana hummed. "Oh, I had inspiration. This one always did know how to make the she-cat in me just purr, didn't you, Dave?"

"Did he now?" Lizzie asked pleasantly, her tiny hands clenching as she watched the woman drop down into the seat she'd vacated, making herself right at home as if she had always been there.

"God, yes! I was hoping you all wouldn't mind if I stole him away from you for a few hours," Lana murmured, looking around the table at the shocked faces of Hotch and Emily. Leaning forward, she mock whispered, "I came out to Little Creek last night with a whole jar of blackberry jam and some whipped cream…I thought you'd be happy to make a meal of me like the last time we got together, but you weren't there, babe," she mock pouted, one collagen-infused lip pooched out in dismay. "Where ever were you?"

"Oh, that was my fault, Lana. He was with me," Lizzie said ever so sweetly, her words an apparent apology, but her tone informing the little group that she was definitely not in an apologetic mood. Turning her glare on Dave, her green eyes grew brighter and brighter by the second as she imagined the various forms of torture she would soon be inflicting on her obviously erstwhile fiancé. His oversized head would look quite nice, stuffed and mounted over her father's mantle. But she digressed. But right now, she had bigger fish to fry.

"So how 'bout I fix that little mishap for you right now?" the Southern spitfire said, tilting her head as she tapped a finger to her determined chin. "Now what could I do?" she drawled sweetly as she easily reached for the glass syrup bottle sitting conveniently in the center of the table. "I've got an idea, sugar!" Lizzie said with mock excitement, all but leading them in a cheer. Leaning forward she whispered, "How 'bout we let him make a meal of you right here!"

Recognizing Lizzie's intention a scant moment before she put deed to thought, Dave's eyes widened as he yelped, scooting back quickly, "Lizzie, no!"

Dumping the syrup over Lana's coiffed head, Lizzie glared at Dave even as she smiled sweetly. "Oh!" she drawled, her jaw tightening visibly as she threw the now empty syrup container on the table, the glass clattering loudly. "What do they say? I believe it's Bon Appétit!" she yelled into Dave's face as she stormed from the restaurant, her red curls bouncing wildly.

"Lizzie!" Dave yelled loudly, ignoring the infuriated screams renting the family chatter of the restaurant, Lana's decidedly colorful curses burning the ears of more than just the inhabitants remaining at the table. Watching Lizzie's flounce never fail as she headed toward the exit door, Rossi yelled again, jerking up quickly, "Elizabeth! Wait!"

"David! How could you LET her do this to me?" Lana shrieked, her once-perfectly manicured hands clawing at the sticky goo currently cementing her coif to her scalp. "That bitch! I'll kill her! Does she have any idea who I am? I will…"

His eyes narrowing as he looked down at the woman that had once held some allure for him, Rossi avoided touching her as he growled heavily, his anger rising as he realized she had threatened Lizzie, "You will do nothing, Lana, and I'll be damned if you ever lay a hand on that woman. Now shut up and clean yourself up. You look like an idiot."

Sputtering, the obviously disturbed woman swept a syrup soaked strand of hair out of her eyes as she begged, plaintively, "But Daa-vid, how could you choose that MOUSE over ME?"

"That lady," David emphasized, his voice deadly, "Is my fiancée. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to find my future wife and fix what you've managed to ruin."

Glancing at Hotch, Rossi didn't even have to speak before the younger man said, quickly, "Go, Dave. Lizzie's quick, and you're gonna have to be quicker." Waving toward Lana, he added, with a tight grin, "We'll take care of this interruption."

And that's all he needed to know. Stomping from the table, David Rossi's only focus was on finding his fiancée before she managed to escape for good.


	49. Chapter 49

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter 49**

Not even sparing a glance back at the shrieking fury covered in pancake syrup, Dave moved quickly through the crowded restaurant, his face flint set as he ignored the stares and gawks from the other patrons. Catching the eye of the restaurant manager at the front captain's desk, he asked quickly, "A tiny redhead just came this way. She might have been a bit upset. Did you happen to see where…."

Gesturing in the direction of the restrooms, the staid middle-aged man nodded as he said, his voice low, "I believe the young lady sought refuge in the ladies' room. If you like, I'd be glad to have one of our female servers …."

Shaking his head, Rossi said, sighing deeply "No, I need to do this myself. And any of your patrons that I'm about to scandalize, put their tabs on my bill."

Hearing the manager say that was extremely generous, Rossi ignored those words as he stalked into the side hallway. Standing before the wooden door plainly marked Ladies, he weighed his options for a moment, then decided to at least start with the niceties. Sparing a moment to consider the fact that he seemed to find himself on the wrong side of every bathroom door, he reminded himself that this was obviously part of having a warped relationship with one Elizabeth Grace. Pounding on the door, he yelled, loudly, "Elizabeth! Are you in there?"

Leaning against the white porcelain sink in the ladies room, Lizzie snatched another paper towel from the counter and dabbed at her dripping eyes as she forced herself to smile wanly at the elderly lady washing her hands beside her. Ignoring the sounds coming through that thick wooden door, she just shook her head as her chest tightened once again.

"I assume you are Elizabeth, dear?" the kind eyed lady with snow white hair asked, gently smiling.

"Yes ma'am," Lizzie whispered. "Though, right now, I wish like the dickens that I was anybody else," she murmured, her breath hitching as she fought a rising sob.

Ignoring the pounding on the wide wooden door, the elderly woman moved a step closer, noticing the sparkling engagement ring on Lizzie's finger. "I take it that is the fiancée?" she asked, gesturing at the gorgeous ring on the young, taut hand.

Bobbing her head, Lizzie swallowed, her lower lip trembling. "For the moment, ma'am."

"Now, dear, all young couples have their troubles. I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding," she told the young woman gently, rubbing Lizzie's shoulder reassuringly.

"Damn it, Lizzie, open the door!" Dave growled, pounding against the wood, wondering how many laws he would be breaking if he just chose to remove this one from the hinges also.

"Oh it's no misunderstanding. It's pure fact. The man I'm gonna be forced to marry is a rounder! I just met one of his floozies!" Lizzie said, burying her face in the towel again as she tried to block that loud, muffled voice.

Scandalized, the older woman's mouth dropped. "What?!"

"Uh huh!" Lizzie wept, stomping her foot against the ceramic floor. "First he drugged me, then he compromised me and my daddy found us. And now…now…his harlots are crawlin' out of the woodwork!"

"Lizzie, just open the damned door and let's talk about this!" Dave said, pounding the door again.

"You will hold your horses, Young Man!" the elderly woman said, turning and yelling stridently at the door. "And watch your language!" she called for good measure. "There are ladies present!!"

"He swears all the time, too," Lizzie sobbed, her shoulder shaking.

In the hallway, Dave stared at the door in horror. "Oh my God," he whispered, his mind reeling. "Now she's converting perfect strangers!"

Inside the tastefully decorated bathroom, the elder woman who'd identified herself as Gertrude Hollister busily tried to calm the pretty younger woman. "Dear, I'm sure the good Lord will forgive your fall from grace…especially if this young man has done everything you say. Perhaps, I should go call the authorities for you. He sounds quite deranged," she murmured, glancing toward the door again as the pounding recommenced in earnest.

"Oh," Lizzie sighed, wiping her eyes one last time and throwing away the paper towel, "he always sounds like that. He's not dangerous. Just loathsome. And like my momma always said, if you lie down with a dog, you best expect the fleas."

"Well, sweetie, if it helps, I hear they make a dip for that now," Gertrude said, glaring towards the door.

"With my luck, I'd drown in it," Lizzie moaned, leaning her head against the floral wallpaper. "Oh, Gertrude what am I gonna do? I've traded my birthright for a mess of pottage!"

"Now dear," Gertrude said gently, rummaging in her oversized black handbag for her hankie, "You look like an intelligent young lady who normally has a good head on her shoulders." Pressing the linen hankie into Lizzie's trembling fingers, she continued, "And I suspect you know how to use the gifts that the good Lord blessed you with, correct?"

Sniffling as she pressed the starched linen cloth to her eyes, Lizzie glanced at the matronly woman as she asked, "Gifts? What gifts?"

Trying to press his ear up against the door, Rossi frowned as he only hear muffled sounds, unable to determine if it was safe to enter. Catching a strange glance from a man exiting the men's room next door, Rossi glared in his direction as he muttered, "What? You've never seen a man waiting outside the ladies' room before?"

"Why, sweetie," Gertrude said, drawing up to her full five feet, "You are a beautiful young woman! That hair alone reminds me of myself when I was your age. And I can tell that you are of good breeding. Obviously, any young man would be honored to have you as his bride. So you just tell this Johnny Come Lately to take his ill manners and coarse behavior elsewhere. There are plenty of fish in the sea, my girl."

Dabbing at her eyes again, Lizzie drew in a deep breath as she whispered, "Thank you, ma'am."

Patting her arm, Gertie murmured appreciatively, "Such a polite young thing." Digging in her purse again, she withdrew a small printed card, pressing it into Lizzie's fingers. "My card, dear. Just in case you ever need an ear again or a shoulder to cry on. Oh, I'd love to have you over for tea!"

Staring down at the old-fashioned calling card, Lizzie felt a genuine smile crossing her lips as she nodded, bending down to give the elderly woman a hug. "Thanks again. And I'll be alright. I think."

"Just remember what I said, dear," Gertrude admonished as she moved to open the door, catching an eavesdropping David Rossi by surprise.


	50. Chapter 50

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Fifty**

Dave watched as the geriatric old lady narrowed her eyes dangerously at him as she crossed the threshold. Talking a hasty step back, he inclined his head, years of deeply ingrained manners taking the lead. "Ma'am," he said calmly, peering around her shoulder hopefully, wondering if his once-upon-a-time fiancee had managed to escape out of some unknown window or secret trap door.

"You! You, sir, are NO gentleman," Gertrude snarled, landing a hard blow to David's chest with her black leather handbag. "And obviously," she hissed, shaking her white head with disdain, "no one ever managed to teach you how to treat a gently bred young lady," she continued, bringing the tip of her steel cane down over one Italian loafer.

"Excuse me!" Dave yelped, bending to grab his foot and silently reminding himself that hitting a woman, especially one of such a mature age, would be wrong. Very wrong. But defending himself against unprovoked attacks might possibly be a very real necessity, especially in his current situation.

"No excuse for you, Young Man!" Gertrude bellowed, landing one final blow with her heavy handbag against what she was convinced was an exceedingly hard head. Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled at the petite redhead watching the show. "You have my number, dear. DO use it if ever you have need," she ordered and with a final glare at the man currently leaning against the wall catching his breath, she regally proceeded down the hallway.

Staring wide eyed at the woman that he was fairly certain he was falling in love with, Dave asked breathlessly, "What in the HELL did you just tell that woman?"

Squaring her shoulders, Lizzie marched out of the restroom, facing Dave in the now deserted hallway. "Something that you wouldn't know if it bit you one the butt, Agent Rossi! It's called the truth!"

Realizing that they had a growing, and interested, audience now, various patrons staring with unadulterated wonder, Rossi muttered heavily, "Look, woman, we're not talking about this here. We'll go back to Little Creek and…."

"Oh, no," Lizzie ground out, throwing her shoulders back as she stiffened her spine, "I ain't gonna be a dirty little secret that you drag behind the woodshed to keep from showing the world! You made your bed with that two-bit floozie, you yakkity Yankee, now you're gonna lie in it. Without me!"

"Lizzie, if you'd just listen to me," Rossi began, drawing in a deep breath as he tried to get in a word edgewise, dropping his hand to her arm as she turned to walk away.

"Listen to you? You're crazier than a run over dog if you think I'm gonna waste my time listenin' to a word that comes out of your yappin' trap ever again," Lizzie yelled, angrily stomping her foot against his loafer, congratulating herself on finding his instep with such accuracy. Ignoring his yelp of pain as she turned on her heel, she sailed out the glass doors and into the entryway of the restaurant, fully intent on leaving that man and his cheatin' ways behind her.

"Elizabeth Grace Winstead," Rossi bellowed at the top of his lungs, ignoring the stunned looks around him, "Where the hell are you going?"

"Home," Elizabeth slung tartly over her shoulder as she weaved her way through the maze of tables in the busy restaurant. Ignoring the stares around her, she yelled back, "And you are cordially disinvited!"

Darting around patrons and waiters alike in an effort to catch up with the red-headed beauty, Dave grimaced, his offended toes protesting his quick movements. "Damn it, Lizzie! Come back here, woman," he growled, his eyes never leaving the attractive backside swaying in front of him.

Unfortunately, his tunnel vision prevented him from noticing the elderly woman from the bathroom glaring daggers in his direction. He never saw the grey cane darting out from under her table. One moment, he was in firm pursuit of a woman that had quickly become the center of his universe and, the next, he was careening toward the tiled floor.

"Ooommph," he grunted as his elbows absorbed the impact, sending an unexpected jolt throughout his entire body. Damn, he thought darkly, he was obviously getting too old to go chasing after women. Especially this woman in particular. "What in the hell!?" he yelled, turning to look over his shoulder, every fiber of his being bristling as he met the serene stare of the geriatric old bat that had already tried to beat him into submission once.

Smiling grimly, Gertrude narrowed her eyes as she stared down at the prone fellow on the floor. "I thought it was my Christian duty to give the young lady a decent head start," she shrugged at his unspoken glare.

Clenching his jaw as he tried to ignore the creaks in his knees as he pulled himself up, Rossi spared a glance for Lizzie's self-appointed guardian as he muttered violently, "Ma'am, trust me when I tell you that woman is three steps ahead of me at all times."

"Sounds like a good place for her to be, Sonny," Gertrude shot back, her wrinkled face composed as she reached for her cup of hot tea, swishing the tea bag with lady-like precision. "And appears to me that you need to learn some manners when it comes to dealing with the fairer gender. And I'll have you know that in my day…."

Catching sight of the angry red curls bouncing out the front door, Rossi straightened up quickly, sidestepping the evil walking stick, he interrupted the old prune as he said, turning, "Appreciate the advice. Gotta go."

Moving as quick as he could, given that many of his major appendages were now on the wounded list, Rossi shifted through the last surge of laughing customers to reach the front doors, calling for Lizzie as he pushed outside.

And then, David Rossi stood in absolute amazement as he watched her jump into a bright yellow taxi, which sped away before he could even reach the curb.


	51. Chapter 51

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Fifty-One**

Striding angrily down the long open corridor leading to Elizabeth Winstead's apartment door, Dave couldn't seem to stem the prolific curses that streamed from his lips. That damn woman had somehow managed to give him a mild case of Tourette's Syndrome with her antics. Gone was the poised self-assured man he'd been all of his fifty some odd years. In his place now stood a man very close to the edge of sanity. And it was all her fault!

Coming to a furious halt before her metal safety door, he couldn't help but remember the last time he had stood here. That was the night that infuriating woman had decided to become the biggest bad girl on the East Coast, and had just about driven him crazy in the process. Well, he thought darkly, banging loudly on the one thing separating him from her, this time she succeeded. He was certifiably crazy.

David Rossi had officially lost his mind because of one tiny little female. God help him.

His jaw clenching as he heard no response, he automatically jerked on the door knob, to no avail. Pounding again, he yelled, loudly, "Elizabeth! I know you're in there! Open up right now!"

But all he got for his troubles was an earful of music. Country music, if he wasn't mistaken. Twangy country music. Loudly blasting from the other side of that separating door. Clenching his fist heavily, he banged again, yelling over the guitars, "Dammit, woman! You're deliberately pushing me now!"

But instead of getting a response from the Southern dynamo, her door staying firmly closed, the door across the hall suddenly yanked open, and the obviously disgruntled face of one of Lizzie's neighbors thrust out. The elderly grey-headed man looked wildly down the hallway, and catching sight of David Rossi standing in the hallway and disturbing his peace, he glared. "Would you mind?" he snapped sharply. "Some of us are trying to watch the TV."

Barely controlling his temper, catching his tongue at the last second, Rossi yanked out his FBI credentials, flashing them quickly as he said, professionally, "FBI business. Just go back to your regular schedule, sir."

His eyes widening almost comically, the nosy neighbor backed into his apartment, slamming the door, but not before Rossi heard him yelling to someone named Mabel that the feds were raiding the place. Great, Rossi thought darkly, now his simple domestic matter was going to make the evening news. Hotch would just LOVE that turn of events.

Turning back to the door, banging again, Rossi yelled sharply, "Elizabeth, open up this door or by God, I'll knock the fucking thing off its hinges."

Listening closely as he heard every word to a song that was apparently describing how a woman was defacing a man's truck with a baseball bat then slashing the tires with a vengeance, he rattled the knob again as he said, darkly, "I've had it, Lizzie. I'll do it. I'll have every one of your neighbors out here demanding to know what's happened if you don't let me in."

And then, seconds later, he heard the slam of the lock as the door yanked open. And Elizabeth Winstead stood in front of him, one tiny hand on her tiny hip as she used another one to yank him inside, hissing loudly, "You'll not make a fool of me again, you two-timing poor excuse for a man. "

"It's official, you've driven me around the bend," Dave muttered, staring down at the furious redhead as he moved into her apartment. Taking a step forward, he forced Elizabeth to step back. "So far today, Elizabeth, I've been coerced into traveling to Georgia by my count two days ahead of schedule," he said, jamming two fingers in front of her face, "in order to appease a family that's crazier than my own. Then, I decide to join my beautiful fiancée for an engagement breakfast with our friends that ended with my being physically assaulted by not ONLY said fiancée, but a geriatric old bat, as well. TWICE!!" he roared. "And now, I rush over here to try to talk some sense into that hard head of yours only to be accused of cheating on you? I was WITH you last night, Elizabeth Grace! So for the love of God and all the saints, PLEASE explain to me how in the hell I can be a two timing poor excuse for a man! Go on, Hot Stuff! Lay it out for me," Dave yelled at the top of his lungs, his final strands of self control hanging in shreds as he glared at the object of his anger.

"Hush your mouth," Lizzie whispered furiously, slamming her front door loudly. "I have neighbors, Dave. Ones that know how to dial 911."

"Good! Maybe they can have one of us delivered to Bellevue!" Dave bellowed again, his jaw clenching.

Pushing past him to stalk into her small kitchen, her angry footsteps pounding against the linoleum, Lizzie snapped angrily over her shoulder, "If I go to the loony bin, it'll be because you put me there, David Rossi."

"The feeling's mutual, babe," Rossi snorted sarcastically, barely holding his anger in check as he stepped behind her. "You're completely responsible for my …"

"Oh , no!" Rounding on her heel, Lizzie snapped sharply, slamming a hand into his chest as she declared, loudly, "You don't get to lay any of the foolishness on my doorstep. I'M not the one that had a former floozie flouncing all over him this morning, making a spectacle of himself in a public restaurant. In case you've forgotten, I'M the one you made look like a fool this morning, the one you cheated on. So don't you be claimin' any injuries, old man."

Grabbing her hand off his chest and pulling her closer, her tiny body slamming against his, he muttered, "Damn it, woman, I'm trying to tell you that Lana means nothing to me! You were there! You saw me. I didn't do one thing to encourage her."

"You didn't do much to send her away, either, did you?" Lizzie taunted back, jerking her hand from his as she attempted to pull away, his nearness too much to bear.

"Would you just shut up and listen to me?" he roared, reaching for arm again only to have her easily sidestep out of reach.

Sidling over to the edge of the cabinet, Lizzie reached into her cookie jar, throwing over her shoulder, "Do you think that just 'cause I talk slow that I'm not smart, Dave? I have two eyes and I can see cheatin' when it's goin' on right before my eyes."

"What you saw wasn't cheating, Lizzie," Rossi yelled, lowering his voice at the last minute as he caught the flash of anger in her eyes again. "Just give me a chance to…"

"To what, Dave?" Lizzie asked contemptuously, her hand wrapping around the perfect little item. Turning back around, she cocked her head as she asked, mock-thoughtfully, "To explain how little Lizzie was all wrong about the big bad Lana? To explain how the sophisticated world works and how little ole me from Podunk just couldn't understand the comings and goings of such people like that…that…that Vampira?"

"Damn it, little girl, I've half a mind to gag you just so I can get a word in edgewise," Rossi muttered, clenching his fist at his side. Why in the name of all the saints that his mother had held holy did he ever think that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this infuriating, stubborn ass woman?

"Oh, you just try, David Rossi, and you'll be meetin' the business end of my pistol," Lizzie snapped back, raising the tiny thirty-eight in her hand and waving it in his direction. "I told you once, you pitiful excuse for a horse's hindend, I hit what I aim for!"


	52. Chapter 52

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Fifty-Two**

"Did you just pull that thing out of the COOKIE jar?" Dave asked incredulously, looking from the small gun to the cheerful bright blue ceramic jar sitting innocently on Lizzie's counter.

"THAT'S what's shockin' you here?" Lizzie fired back, eyes widening in anger as she jerked the gun forward again. "The fact that I'm aholdin' a gun on you don't even penetrate that hard head of yours, does it?"

"I've been married three times, Lizzie. You think this is the first time a crazy lady has pulled a gun on me?" Dave asked casually, not concerned in the least as he dropped his hands in his pockets. Looking around the kitchen, from the shiny tiles on the floor to the gleaming appliances, Dave frowned. "Is it always this clean in here?" he asked, attempting to divert her attention.

"What?" Lizzie asked blankly, narrowing her eyes at the fool standing in front of her.

"I asked if it was always this clean in here. It looks like you've never even used the kitchen," Dave repeated, cocking his head as he watched the gun drop slightly in her hands. "You work almost as many hours as I do. When do you have time to clean like this?"

"Idle hands are the devil's work," Lizzie shrugged, then added, darkly, "And you can quit tryin' to distract me cause it isn't gonna work, you yellow bellied coward! Ain't nothin' on God's green earth gonna make me forget that you were lettin' the whore of Babylon crawl all over you in a public restaurant while your fiancée stood there watchin'! Only a Yankee would do such. A southern gentlemen woulda made things clear to your painted lady quicker than a tick leaps a dog's back!"

"Dammit, woman, what do you think I was doing? I pushed her away and I definitely didn't encourage her in any way," Rossi claimed loudly, then stopped suddenly, his eyes narrowing as he said, suspiciously, "And did I just hear the word whore come from your mouth? Who are you and what have you done with my Lizzie?"

"Your Lizzie?" she scoffed, dropping the snubnose revolver on the counter as she turned, stomping down the small hallway into the living room. "You made it clearer than sunshine on the river that I ain't nothin' to you, Agent Rossi, so don't be claimin' none the difference now."

Grabbing the pistol and easily flipping the chamber to empty the bullets, sliding them into his pocket, he yelled out as he followed, "You're wearing my ring, aren't you? I think that says more than any words can say."

Turning abruptly as she reached the edge of her couch, Lizzie smiled grimly as she snapped, her words even but deadly, "Oh, if you think this piece of jewelry makes you my lord and master, then we can take care of that quicker than a horse's tail can swat a fly." Tugging the flashing diamond off her slim finger, Lizzie pulled her hand back and took aim, letting the small missile sail across the room.

"That, Elizabeth," Dave growled slowly, catching the sparkling diamond mid-air without effort, "was a categorical mistake."

"Ya know," Lizzie said, tilting her head as she sized her opponent up across the room, "the way I figure it, one way or another, I'm gonna be shamed. And I'd rather be accused of bein' the town trollop than shamed by bein' the wife of a damn Yankee that can't keep his pecker in his pants!"

"Five dollars!" Dave yelled quickly, jabbing an accusing finger at her. "You swore! Five dollars!"

"And that oughta go to show you JUST how angry I am," Lizzie yelled, stomping her foot angrily against the carpet. "You've reduced me to your level! You happy now, you dimwitted monkey?" she growled, fishing a five dollar bill out of her purse and hurling it at him. "Lord have mercy, but you've corrupted me in more than one blame way!"

Ignoring the fluttering bill as it landed on the floor beside him, he stalked closer as he stated, darkly, "Once again, you've not listening to a word I said, have you? NOTHING HAPPENED!"

"I was there, Agent Rossi!" Lizzie snorted, flipping around to stomp through her small living room, her footsteps leading her round and round in small circles. "As a matter of fact, I had a front seat for the whole bloomin' debacle!" Suddenly raising a hand in the air as she saw his mouth open again, she added, words very slow, "That was, of course, until that bitch took my seat, pushin' me right out of the way and makin' herself right at home." Glaring at the man that had professed to want to marry her, she asked, head cocked, "You didn't seem to stop that, either, did you?"

His hand clenching around the stiff diamond in his palm, Rossi narrowed his eyes as he glared back at the tiny spitfire. "Dammit, woman, I came after you didn't I? And let me tell you right now, I'm not accustomed to chasing after women. Especially ones who decide to lose their freaking minds in public!"

"I lost MY mind?" Lizzie yelled back, rolling her eyes as she stomped toward the side table, reaching for her Mountain Dew she had poured earlier. Taking a healthy shot, she asked, irritation coloring every word, "And let me just tell you right now, you boorish excuse for a man, you don't need to be worryin' about runnin' after me anymore."

"Oh, I'm not worried, Lizzie," Dave drawled, shaking his head as he wondered if he had entered the twilight zone once again. "Because pretty soon, I'm gonna do the world a favor, tie you up, gag you, and throw you in a closet somewhere!"

Turning, Lizzie casually bent to open the little drawer underneath her coffee table, rising to aim another snub nosed pistol at him. "I'd like to see you try, Mr. High and Mighty!"

Narrowing his gaze at the second weapon she'd brandished at him in five minutes, he shook his head as he glanced around the small room. "Exactly How many of those things do you have stashed around here, Elizabeth?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out. Or not. Your choice," Lizzie replied sweetly, her finger teasing against the back of the trigger.


	53. Chapter 53

******Author's Note: Please, readers, review! Let us know what you're thinking.**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Fifty-Three**

Breathing deeply, Dave lifted his head to stare at the ceiling, squeezing his eyes shut as he prayed for patience. A sane man would walk away. Hell, a sane man would run! So, what was it about this tiny slip of a woman that kept him coming back to face the business end of her pistols? He tried to tell himself that it was pity, but opening one eye he knew that wasn't it. Cheeks flushed with agitation, red curls askew, she was a vision. And he was man enough to admit he was quickly becoming addicted to it. Hell, he'd been addicted to it since she'd walked into the BAU offices and turned his life upside down.

Dropping his steady gaze back to her, Dave tried for diplomacy. "Okay, Elizabeth, I know what you thought you saw, but…"

"You see glasses perched on this nose?" Lizzie retorted angrily, stomping her bare foot. "I'm not blind."

"Never said you were. What I'm trying to say, if you'll let me talk," Rossi snapped, then drew in a deep breath, evening his voice as he said, "Is this. Did you see ME doing ANYTHING to Lana? Anything to encourage her?"

"I didn't see you pushin' her off your sorry carcass," Lizzie snorted, waving the small gun randomly as she paced from side to side.

"That's because you didn't hang around long enough," Rossi answered, raising one eyebrow as he added, deeply, "You missed me telling her to keep the hell away from me and my fiancée."

"You talk a pretty talk, Rossi," Lizzie muttered, rolling her eyes, wrapping an arm around her stomach. "But that don't hold the water it'd take to put out a match and you know it. You're just yapping to hear your head roar and…."

"If you don't believe me, ask Hotch. Ask Emily," Rossi said calmly, once again wondering why he was even bothering with this convoluted drama. Never once, not once, in his fifty something years had he ever defended himself to a woman like he was now, and he quickly decided that this was not something he was enjoying. Not at all. But no matter how hard he told himself to just walk out that back door and not look back, he couldn't.

"You know, I know your history. You've flown fast and loose as a goose all over the country. Tell me, am I gonna trip over one of your tramps EVERY time I walk out my door?" Lizzie asked angrily.

"I haven't flown anywhere in a long time, Elizabeth and I don't owe you any explanations. Especially when I haven't done anything wrong. There's nothing between Lana and me except a few shared days of sordid history YEARS ago. I haven't touched a woman – ANY woman – since before I came back to the Bureau. And certainly not since you dropped like a firebomb into my life!" Dave growled, stomping toward her.

"But…"

"But, nothing, Elizabeth. I'm over fifty years old. Most men my age have some kind of past. You don't get to be this age without one," Dave retorted, his last shreds of control evaporating with very word.

"Yeah, but they ain't all quite as colorful as yours, are they?" Lizzie snorted, dropping one hand to her hips as she kept the gun expertly aimed at him. Years of target shooting with her brothers had been useful for something.

"Damn it, Lizzie! What the hell do you expect from me?" Dave groaned, rubbing a rough hand over his face as he tried to rub away what had to be yet another nightmare.

"A marriage. A faithful, honest marriage. Unlike you, I take the vows seriously. I don't wanna go sayin' 'em four blamed times. I don't want St. Peter to be standin' at the Pearly Gates huntin' my name in his book cause they ain't got the right married name attached to it," Lizzie declared, propping the gun on her hip as she glared at him. "For the last twenty-four hours, you've shoved prenuptial agreements plannin' our divorce at me and had your former lady loves droppin' in for carnal visits….how in the dickens am I supposed to feel?"

"Lizzie, I didn't do this on purpose," Rossi said, rubbing a hand over his face as he took a step closer. "You've got to cut me some slack. In case you missed it, this hasn't exactly been a party for me, either!"

"Well, you could've fooled me! Seems to me that you've been enjoyin' your turn on the tiltiwhirl, what with all the pretty bobbles gettin' thrown in your direction," Lizzie said snidely, tucking her pistol closer to her side as she watched him move again.

"Oh, yeah, it's always a trip to Disneyland when an irate father shows up at the crack of dawn, accusing me of corrupting his daughter. In my own home! And then I suffered through the inquisition from hell with that same man, literally negotiating for the right to marry you!" Rossi snapped back, his fist balling at his side. Seeing her turn suddenly in his direction, her mouth wide open for retaliation, he added, sharply, "Dammit, woman, I don't do that for just anyone! For some damn reason, I actually want to marry you!"

Jerking in the other direction, Lizzie ignored those last words as she paced toward the window. "Well, bully for you. I'm just not certain you're the man for me anymore, Agent Rossi. I think I need a man who's gonna be more interested in me than the floozies who follow him at every turn."

Easing up behind her, Rossi wrapped his arms around her quickly, one strong hand grabbing the gun as his other arm yanked her back against him, his voice solid in her ear. "But are you gonna find a man who can make you feel the way I did, Lizzie?"

"Probably not," Lizzie whispered, staring at their wavy reflections in the bright glass. "But no matter how good you can make me feel when the lights go off is gonna compensate for the shame I feel when you inevitably start your carousin', Dave," Lizzie said softly, barely able to stop herself from leaning against his warm body.

"Who the hell said anything about me stepping out with another woman, Lizzie?" Dave asked on a sigh, dropping the little gun in his pocket as he slipped his arms around her narrow waist.

"I'm not like all those painted women you've spent years runnin' around with, Dave. Can't you see that? I'm never gonna want that fast lifestyle that you're used to. And there's no way I can keep up with women like Lana," Lizzie replied sadly. "Even your ex-wives liked to live high on the hog. It's clear you like a certain kind of woman and in case you missed it, I'm not it."

"And let's review how well all those relationships worked out for me, Elizabeth," Dave reminded her against her ear as he pulled her small tense frame against him. "Because the way I remember it, none of those women and I lasted."

"I know. So I think you can see my problem, can't you?" Lizzie muttered, worrying her lower lip with her teeth as his hands slid warmly against her hips. "If the women like that couldn't hold your interest, how in the world to you expect me to accomplish the impossible. And believe me, if you shame me after we're married, I'd rather be your widow than your wife."


	54. Chapter 54

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Fifty-Four**

"Is that a thinly veiled threat, Babe?" Dave smiled against her ear, rubbing his thumbs across her taut stomach.

"I didn't think I covered that promise up with anything," Lizzie shrugged, trying to ignore how wonderful his solid weight felt behind her, how good his strong arms felt wrapped around her. How amazing it felt to be wrapped up in his warmth and security.

"Lizzie, there's one thing I can promise you," Dave said softly against her massive curls, his words whispering against her forehead as he slid his leg closer to hers. "I don't cheat. I don't break my vows." Trailing a finger down her arm, he added, knowingly, "And I have no doubt that you're going to be more than enough for me. Hell, woman, you've had me wrapped up in your spell since the first time we met."

Something about the tone of his voice seemed to break through her defenses. She wasn't prepared to trust him, to let him get this close, and yet, somehow, she had let him inside, let him closer than she'd ever let a man since…since…

No, she told herself firmly. You can't go there, Elizabeth. Experience had taught her that if she let her mind linger on those dark days and darker thoughts, that she would never regain her sanity. Drawing in a deep breath, she blinked quickly, feeling his arms tighten against her, the steady beat of his heart against her back. And in that moment, against her better judgment, she knew that she could trust him.

Slowly letting her body collapse against his, relaxing her shoulders slightly, she muttered, as she stared up at his reflection in the plate glass, "You better be telling the truth, Agent Rossi, or…."

Wrapping a hand over her lips suddenly, he said, firmly, "No more Agent Rossi, Elizabeth. I want to hear you call me by my name."

Nipping at the tips of his fingers as she pulled his hand away, she closed her eyes as she said, reluctantly, "Alright. Dave. There I said it. Happy now?"

Grinning as he tucked her even closer, forming her body against his, he nodded as he swept her long hair over her shoulder, dropping a kiss to her temple as he whispered, "Now, was that so hard?"

"It wasn't that easy," Lizzie retorted, resting her head against his shoulder as she stared out the window at the city below.

"It'll get easier," Dave replied softly, sliding her engagement ring back on her finger, smiling in victory as he felt her hand relax at the motion. "And one more thing before we put this little ordeal behind us, Elizabeth," Dave murmured, turning her gently around to face him. "The ring stays on your finger," he ordered, squeezing her left hand lightly. "Believe it or not, I want this marriage to be my last. And throwing your ring at my head isn't exactly conducive to a successful union, now is it?"

"No," Lizzie admitted grudgingly, rubbing her thumb against the feel of the metal. Something strange inside her seemed to grow warmer as she thought about his ring, about wearing it for the rest of her life like her Mama wore her Daddy's. Darn it, she thought suddenly, frowning. She couldn't be letting herself go all soft and mushy like one of those girls in those trashy romances her cousin Aidella was always reading. Squaring her shoulders back, she added, sharply, "But it was either that or I shoot you. Which would you have preferred?"

"Neither," Dave replied honestly. "But watching you pull the trigger would have hurt a lot less. I know you don't believe me yet, Elizabeth, and with my track record, I don't blame you, but those vows mean a lot to me. That ring means a lot to me, too. Keep it on your finger, okay?" he requested softly, feeling a sense of calmness that he hadn't expected. Something about knowing that she was once again wearing that sign of commitment gave him a warm feeling on the inside. Which, of course, only meant that obviously he was growing softer in his old age, dammit!

"As long as you don't give me a reason to take it off, it'll stay where it's at," Lizzie returned evenly, raising her eyes to his. "In case you've missed it, I don't handle betrayal very well. I won't play the clueless little wife for you, Dave. And I won't be made a fool of. This southern accent of mine doesn't equate with stupidity. Do yourself a favor and wrap your mind around that."

"I have NEVER thought you were stupid, Elizabeth. You said yes to me, didn't you?" he winked, dropping a gentle kiss against her puckered lips, groaning as he felt her pull away.

"I don't think sayin' I do to you is exactly gonna qualify me as the world's smartest woman," Lizzie snorted, blinking as she tried to regain control, her body starting to feel warm and liquidy on the inside. Now that was a strange feeling, wasn't it? How in the name of all that is holy was she expected to keep her senses about her when he kept doing these strange things to her body? She didn't remember another man ever making her feel this way, unless, of course, she counted Jimmy Joe McGillis, which she didn't. That one kiss on the church hayride when she was fifteen left her feeling more confused that anything else. And considering the fact that her brother stubbornly sat between them from that point forward kinda put a kink in whatever might have happened then.

"That's a matter of opinion, honey," Dave grinned. Tightening his arms around her waist, he tugged her closer, drawing in a deep breath as he felt her beautiful body mold pliantly against him, her perfect softness causing his body to stir. Bending his head, he whispered, "Come here, Lizzie. It's time for your first lesson in how a man and his future bride make nice after an argument."


	55. Chapter 55

**Author's Note: I think Tonnie and I have reached the conclusion that this is probably our favorite writing collaboration ever! Please, guys, review and let us know what you all think! We love hearing from each of you!**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Fifty-Five**

Shading her eyes against the bright Southern sun, Lizzie stepped lightly down the two metal stairs as she dropped to the worn tarmac. Smiling widely, she took in a deep breath as she said, almost reverently, "Smell that, Dave? That's honest-to-God Southern air. You can't get nothin' like that up in ole ugly smoggy Yankee land, now can you?"

Stepping down behind her and dropping a comfortable arm around her narrow waist, he swept his fingers against her thin sundress as he looked around. His eyes widening, he asked in disbelief, "This is the airport, Lizzie? You've got to be kidding me."

A deep male voice answered behind him, Hotch's dry words floating over the clear air, "This is Piermont General Aviation, Dave. Welcome to Dixie."

Scanning the general area, which consisted of one low building and an oversized covered patio that obviously passed as a hangar, Dave shook his head as he grunted, "Seriously, people. I knew we were on the puddle jumper from hell, but I expected…."

But his words were interrupted as he heard a squeal suddenly come from the peppy red-head beside him, and she started to pull away. Watching as she headed toward a tall man at the edge of the building, Dave caught her at the last moment, his fingers grabbing hold of her flowing dress.

"Lizzie, what the hell?" Rossi muttered, yanking her close as he glared at the scruffy looking character in the distance. "How do you know that's not a thief or a swindler? You can't just go running off to every…."

Smacking at his hand, Lizzie snapped flashing green eyes to his as she said, "Dave, that's Old Pete. He's harmless. He's been 'round these parts since I was knee high to a grasshopper. And he's kin folk! Quit doin' your impression of a surly bear!"

"Kin folk?" Dave muttered, walking behind Lizzie as she threw herself in the arms of a tall lanky man spitting a steady stream of tobacco juice toward the ground. What the hell kind of bizarre world had he landed in?

"Lizzie, Lizzie," Pete hollered. "Tell me it ain't true, girl. Tell me you ain't gonna hitch your cart to some Yankee's wagon!" he blustered, catching the tiny redhead up in his arms. "What in thunderation is granddaddy gonna say?"

Turning to glare at Hotch, Rossi snorted as he said under his breath, "Let me guess. This is my welcome committee."

"Count yourself lucky, Dave," Hotch replied, shifting his bag on his shoulder as he slipped on his dark sunglasses. "I heard that Uncle James was considering having a twenty-one gun salute in your honor. And they weren't planning on using blanks."

About to respond, his answer ready on the tip of his tongue, Rossi closed his mouth as he watched his future wife tug the obviously disgruntled man in his direction.

"Whatever you do, Dave," Hotch whispered loudly, his professional smile firmly in place, "Just smile and nod. Keep your mouth shut if you know what's good for you."

Her tiny feet eating up the distance quickly, Lizzie bounced back in front of her fiancée and cousin as she said, happily, "Look, Cousin Aaron! Pete's here to meet Dave! Wasn't that sweet of him?"

"Absolutely," Hotch agreed, biting back a smile as he exchanged handshakes with the burly man, commenting quickly about the weather and asking about Pete's family, cousins, and extended family.

"And this," Lizzie said brightly, pulling Pete in front of Dave, "Is my fiancé! David Rossi, meet Pete Southerland, Daddy's cousin thrice removed on his mama's side."

It didn't take a profiler to see the definite look of disagreement on the relative's face. Telling himself that this would be over in three short days, Rossi smiled politely as he stuck out his hand, his tone cordial. "Dave Rossi. Nice to meet you."

"Rossi?" Pete said suspiciously, his hands suddenly stuffed inside the front pocket of his overalls. "That an Eye-talian name?"

"Yes, yes it is," Rossi answered, his eyes glancing back and forth from person to person as he slowly dropped his proffered hand.

"You from It'ly?" the grizzled man asked, his squinting in the overhead sun.

"No, I'm originally from New York. But my father's family was from Rome," Dave answered slowly, wondering why he was suddenly being grilled by a backwaters farmer in the middle of a cornfield masquerading as a Podunk airstrip. Just his luck, this man was probably the local reporter, and everything he did or said would end up on the front page of whatever rag that passed as a newspaper in this God-forsaken town.

Eyes narrowing in deep thought, Pete asked slowly, "That's where that Vaddican is, ain't it? You ain't a Cath'lic, air ya?"

"Actually I am," Dave answered evenly, avoiding the hiss he heard coming from Hotch's direction, the other man's warning clear.

"Oh Lordy help, Lizzie," Pete said with a moan, pulling the tiny smiling woman beside him much closer. "You've done gone and got yourself snapped up by a…"

"Now Pete," Lizzie said calmly, patting his oversized chest as she smiled up brightly at him, "We can't be standin' here all day bakin' in the sun while Mama's peach pie goes to waste, now can we? Why don't you help us load up and we'll head on out to the farm, okay?"

Chomping on the bulge pressing in his jaw, Pete asked slowly, his eyes raking up and down the Italian interloper, "You intendin' on him stayin' with ya'll out at your daddy's place?"

"Of course, Pete," Lizzie replied airily, reaching for her tote bag, only to have Dave pull it easily from her hands and swing it over his shoulder. Looking in his direction, she dropped a hand to her hip as she said, commandingly, "David Rossi, I'm a big girl. You don't need to go…"

"Just being a gentleman, Elizabeth," Dave replied evenly, catching the dark looks he was still receiving from the less-than-jolly man in front of him. He added, evenly, "And I'm sure that Pete here has better things to do than wait for us to get our things together."

"Nope," Pete answered simply, spitting a stream of tobacco juice precisely to the ground, landing it a mere inch from Rossi's tasseled loafers. "Lizzie's mama gave me my marchin' orders early this morning, said I was to get her baby girl home as soon as that flyin' bird hit the ground." Frowning, he added, darkly, "Reckon she won't take her leave without you taggin' along, huh?"

Seeing the dark look growing in Dave's eyes as he moved his foot away from the tobacco deposit, Hotch interrupted smoothly, "Well, Pete, I'd say we're ready to go. The sooner you get us to WhiteStone, the happier Aunt Anne will be."

Nodding brightly, Lizzie tucked her arm through Pete's as she pulled him toward the waiting four-door pickup truck, chattering lightly. Trailing behind them, pulling the luggage and carry bags, Rossi looked at Hotch, his jaw set. "Tell me things improve from here, Aaron."

Smiling as he followed in Lizzie's wake, Hotch shrugged, answering evenly, "Welcome to Dixie, Dave. I suggest you tighten your seatbelt."


	56. Chapter 56

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Fifty-Six**

Watching as the redheaded ball of energy beside him fairly vibrated with excitement as Pete's old truck sped down the gravel lane at warp speed, Dave felt his teeth jostle for what felt like the hundredth time. Evidently the young redneck driving was making it his sole mission in life to find every rut on the narrow road and hit them with stunning accuracy.

"Look up ahead, Dave. We're almost home," Lizzie smiled widely, staring out the dirty windshield in front of them, oblivious to the fact that Dave was trying not to choke on the dust her cousin was kicking up with their race car maneuvers.

"How the hell can you see anything in this haze, Elizabeth?" Dave choked, waving a hand in front of his face.

Snorting, Lizzie shook her head. "Oh, poo, Pete's been flyin' up this lane since God was a boy, Dave. Quit grippin' the seat that way, you sissy," she chastened, nodding to where one clenched hand dug into the leather of the cushions. "You're a federal agent. Don't tell me you ain't been in some high speed chases before now."

"Lizzie, there's a difference in pursuing a criminal and trying to commit suicide by truck," Dave muttered, his voice low as they hit another dip in the road. Automatically reaching out his arm to throw across her waist as the truck pitched forward, he grumbled, "I could have just rented a car and saved your cousin the hassle. And saved myself a trip to the chiropractor!"

"Hush your mouth," Lizzie ordered, slapping his thigh sharply. "It would've been poor manners to refuse Pete's kindness. Didn't your mama ever teach you nothin'?" Lizzie reprimanded quietly, glaring over at him over the top of her oversized sunglasses.

"Yeah, she told me never to accept strange rides from psychotic drivers," Dave grumbled under his breath as suddenly the truck screeched to a halt in front of a rambling two story house settled in the middle of a grove of trees.

"Home, sweet home, Lizzie girl!" Pete hollered from the front seat, looking over his shoulder with a wide smile. "Bet you don't get curbside service like this in the big city, do ya, Mr. Eye-talian?"

"I can honestly say I've never quite been chauffeured like this before," Dave nodded sharply, throwing open the door of the cab and stretching back up to help Lizzie down. Why the hell did this guy feel the need to jack his truck five feet off the ground anyway? Didn't they have normal size tires in the South?

Dropping down easily into Dave's waiting arms, Lizzie slid against him, her smile growing by the second. Staring around him at the two-story white farmhouse just yards away, she whispered, almost reverently, "It feels like it's been a month of Sundays since I've been back home."

Pulling her against him as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, Rossi said with a calm he wasn't sure he felt, "Well, why don't you head on in and I'll just help Aaron with the bags?" Nodding toward her cousin, who had been suspiciously quiet the entire truck trip, he added, "He can show me where to go, and I'll…"

"Oh, no," Lizzie said suddenly, staring up into his eyes, her lips set primly. "You're my guest, so I have to be the one to introduce you to Mama. And I know that Granddaddy's wanting to meet you, and I'm sure that my brothers will be here soon, if they've not already got here. Cousin Aaron and Pete will take care of everything, so let's get going. I'm not going to keep Mama waiting anymore!"

Drawing in a deep sigh as he let her take his hand in her much smaller one, he followed her up the small stone pathway to the wide covered porch that wrapped around most of the house. Muttering as he swatted at a pesky mosquito as he stared at a hunched figure on the wooden porch, he asked, warily, "Lizzie, who is that sitting on the porch? And why is she holding an umbrella over her head?"

"That's not an umbrella, Dave, it's a parasol," Lizzie answered matter-of-factly as she hit the bottom step, dragging him with her. "And Great Aunt Myrtie uses it to keep the aliens from seeing her from their spaceships in the trees."

"What?" Dave asked, eyes widening as he suddenly abruptly stopped, jerking Lizzie back to his side. Staring down at her solemn face, he demanded, "What did you just say?"

"Didn't I mention that?" Lizzie replied, shrugging carelessly as smiled up at him. "My Aunt Myrtie's a bit touched."

"Touched?" Dave said, narrowing his eyes as he cocked his head, ignoring the grunts coming from the truck as the two men unloaded Lizzie's massive luggage.

"Uh huh," Lizzie nodded, looking at him like he was a three year old toddler. "You know touched… in the head. Been that way since Uncle Otho died back in '83, bless her heart. She's granddaddy's sister. Harmless as a lamb though," Lizzie explained carelessly, waving a hand toward her relative.

"Really?" Dave said incredulously, watching as the elderly lady on the porch appeared to be having a conversation with the empty wicker chair beside her. "Who's she talking to Lizzie?" he asked warily, nodding to the porch.

"Oh, that," Lizzie said, looking over her shoulder. "Probably one of this little green men that she claims she sees," Lizzie said easily. "Just have a care you never sit in that chair. She likes the one that sits next to her. She nearly beat my brother half to death with a hickory switch when he forgot once."

His eyes darkening as he wondered about the safety of the situation, Dave said, "Lizzie, this woman sounds more than just a little addled. Don't you think there's more appropriate facilities for her than your parents front porch. I could contact one of the mental facilities in Atlanta and –"

"What?! You mean put her in a home. Have you lost your Yankee mind?" Lizzie retorted fiercely, slamming her hand against his chest. "You best learn one thing right now, Dave. You're in the South now. We put are crazy folk on the front porch for the world to see; we don't shove 'em in no blame hospital to be forgotten 'bout. Now you stifle that awful talk of yours right this second! And come on! Mama's waitin' for us," she ordered, dragging him forcefully down the cobblestone path toward the house.


	57. Chapter 57

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Fifty-Seven**

Climbing the steps quickly, Lizzie smiled at her Aunt Myrtie, noticing that the older woman seemed to have lost a few more pounds in the past few months. "Hi, Auntie," she said brightly, bending to brush a kiss against the old woman's weathered cheek.

"Lizzie?" Aunt Myrtie's aged voice cracked as she squinted up at her great-niece in the afternoon sunshine, tilting the parasol backwards. "You home, honey?"

"Yes, ma'am," Lizzie nodded dutifully. "And I brought somebody home with me, Auntie. The man I'm gonna marry. Meet David Rossi," she said, tugging Dave's hand as he stepped forward.

Extending his hand warily, Dave nodded to the old lady sitting in the wooden rocking chair. "A pleasure, ma'am," he said with a smile. But seconds later, the smile quickly turned to a frown as Myrtie snapped her fly swatter sharply to Dave's thigh. "Ow!" Dave yelped, jerking back automatically, his survival skills telling him that this woman was far more dangerous than he had been led to believe.

"Aunt Myrtie," Lizzie chided, grabbing the elderly woman's arm when she raised her swatter again. "What did daddy tell you about that?" she asked gently, easing the weapon down and out of striking reach.

"Can't help it, honey. Had to get that alien probe off him. Can't go in the house with it on him," Myrtie's agitated voice worried, dropping the parasol on the plank floor with a loud thump.

Sighing heavily, Lizzie held out her hand, motioning for the metal instrument. "Well, give it to me, Auntie. I'll get it off him," she said, taking the fly swatter in hand and turning toward Dave, her eyes focused on him.

Eyes widening, Dave tilted his head, taking another step backward. "Pardon me?"

"Just go along, Dave," Lizzie said quietly, hitting him several times with the instrument, flicking back and forth.

"Damn it, Lizzie!" Dave growled as the woman swung the swatter at him dramatically.

"Did I get it, Auntie?" Lizzie asked over her shoulder, smacking him extra hard for the curse word he dared to utter on her Mama's porch.

"You got it, Peanut," Myrtie said, smiling in satisfaction as she held out her hand for her weapon. "Just like I taught you, baby. Go on in now, honey," she said, waving at the door as she turned her focus back to the front yard. "Don't keep your mama waiting."

"Yes'm," Lizzie nodded, grabbing Dave's hand as he stared between the two women in shock.

"Lizzie, how long has that woman been like this?" he asked in stunned amazement, following woodenly in her footsteps.

"Since the lightning storm of eighty-three, right after Uncle's funeral," Lizzie answered calmly, pulling open the screened door. "Apparently the aliens came in from outer space during the largest crash of thunder, which covered their landing and kept the newspapers from reporting their unauthorized visit. Otherwise, Auntie feels that the little green men would have never stayed, seeing as how they are quite camera shy." She paused for a moment, thinking, then added with a nod, "And Aunt Myrtie's a bit confused on which planet they call home, but the last I heard, her favorite little green person was from Mars. He's the one that has the smallest tentacles, you know."

"Surely you don't think that it's healthy for her to have such continual delusions," Rossi hissed in her ear, dropping his hand to the small of her back as they entered an oak paneled foyer, a wide staircase leading off to the side. Glancing over his shoulder as he heard the old woman start talking loudly again, her voice carrying through the screen door, he added, warily,"And it's probably not all that safe for the rest of us, either."

"Again, Dave, this is the South. And all of our crazy aunties are completely harmless, Dave," Lizzie said, rolling her eyes as she headed purposefully down the narrow hallway, dragging him along behind her. Calling loudly, she asked, "Mama? Daddy? Ya'll home?"

A soft female voice came floating from the other end of the house, almost identical to Lizzie's. "Lizzie, honey, is that you?"

Smiling widely, Lizzie called back, pulling Dave with her as she stepped into a bright, airy kitchen, "It's me, Mama! And I brought someone for you to meet."

Moving quickly across the open kitchen in a flurry of movement, Anne Winstead wrapped her only daughter tightly in her arms, two red heads merging into one. "You're home, honey! Finally!"

Drawing back, Lizzie pecked her mother's cheek before turning to look at Dave, grinning. "Finally, my foot. Cousin Pete drove like a bat out of Hades based on your direct order."

"So I was in a bit of a hurry to see my baby," Anne shrugged easily, squeezing her shoulder for good measure once again. "Given everything, I don't think you can blame me for wanting to see you here in one piece. For goodness sakes, Elizabeth Grace, confrontin' muggers in the nastiest blame part of the Capital? I know I raised you better than that, didn't I?"

"Now, mama," Lizzie sighed, shifting guiltily from foot to foot. "I told you I was workin' with those poor lost souls downtown."

"One of those lost souls nearly got you killed, Elizabeth Grace," Anna chastised her daughter, her green eyes darkening at the thoughts of her little girl in such a dangerous place. "Now I'm all for helpin' those less fortunate, but not at the expense of my flesh and blood."

"Good luck trying to get your daughter to listen to that wisdom," Rossi said under his breath, drawing the attention of both of the women to him. Seeing Lizzie's mother stare in his direction, he meet the direct gaze head on, realizing that he was looking into an exact copy of Lizzie's clear green eyes.

Stepping toward Dave, Lizzie smiled at her mother as she said, "Mama, this is Dave. David Rossi. He's the man I'm gonna marry." Looking at Dave, she said, grinning, "And I guess you realized this is my mama. Anna Winstead."

Nodding, Dave cautiously held out his hand, wondering if a repeat of the Pete situation was about to occur. Or, even worse, the Myrtie situation. But as the older Southern woman smiled warmly at him and pressed her palm to his, he said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Winstead. And I hope you have better luck than I did in getting your daughter to listen to reason."

"My Lizzie's always been a bit headstrong," Anna said with a laugh, pulling her daughter to her with her other arm. Looking at Dave, she said, seriously, "Now, tell me how you plan on takin' care of my little girl. I'm not exactly sure that I approve of this whirlwind romance, and I don't cotton to my little girl being taken advantage of."


	58. Chapter 58

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Fifty-Eight**

"I'm sorry," Dave asked in confusion, shooting Lizzie an inquisitive look. Holy hell, it had been over thirty years since a parent had asked about his intentions, let alone suggested _he_ would be the one to take advantage of anyone.

Lizzie turned just in time to see Dave open his mouth and slide quickly back across the room to loop her arm through Dave's, pinching the inside of his bicep in warning. "Well, of course his intentions are honorable, Mama. You don't think I'd choose some lazy slug of a man, do you? David is a very accomplished author and agent. And most importantly, he loves me," Lizzie declared, pinching his arm again for good measure. Turning to glare at him, she added, sweetly, "Don't you, Dave?"

"Ouch," Dave winced, covering her hand with his to stop any more of those tediously painful pinches. Looking from Lizzie's upturned wide eyed face to Anne's patiently expectant countenance, Dave said smoothly, "I can assure you that Lizzie is the most important person in my world and I am more than prepared and capable of taking care of her in an appropriate manner. My last book alone grossed…,"

Holding up a hand, Anne Winstead shook her head, a few strands of hair coming loose in the process from the clip holding her red curls in place. "I'm not talkin' about my little girl being financially cared for. Any idiot can pull a credit report. I did that as soon as my James gave me your name. I'm more worried about how you'll care for Lizzie's heart."

"Her heart?" Dave questioned, trying to follow the older version of Lizzie's line of logic. Apparently whatever reasoning they used was genetic, passed down on the maternal side of the family.

"Yes, sir, her heart," Anne nodded firmly, peering closely at him. "As in, can I trust you not to break it?"

Staring down into the older version of the green eyes he had grown to adore, Dave took a deep breath as he said, calmly, "I'm not going to hurt Lizzie, Mrs. Winstead. I'm careful with things that I value, and I don't treat them lightly or carelessly. And I told Lizzie that very thing already."

Feeling Lizzie shift against him, her fingers clenching his arm tighter for a moment, he turned then to look at the petite redhead that had dragged him to Georgia. "You wanna back me up, Lizzie, and let your mother know that I'm telling the truth?"

Shaking her head before her daughter could even speak, Anne Winstead said calmly, "I don't need to hear from my little girl right now. I could tell by the look on her face when she said your name how she felt about you. What I want to know from you, Mr. Rossi, is that you're not goin' be leavin' my baby in the lurch when the goin' gets tough."

Glancing from woman to woman, Dave asked with a sigh, "I take it you are aware of my past and my previous marriages?"

"You'll have to forgive my bluntness," Anne replied, her tone not at all apologetic, one reddish-brown brow arching perfectly, "But in our neck of the woods, we've learned that it's pretty hard for an old dog to learn new tricks. And we definitely don't allow no foxes in the henhouse."

Mentally groaning as he realized that he was going to have to rely on self-interpretation of these particular animal euphemisms, Dave felt Lizzie's tiny fingers pinch his skin again as he said, smiling tightly, "The last few years have given me a new outlook on life. I intend to make Lizzie happy in every way, and will make sure that she's cared for and that no one, including me, ever hurts her."

Anne narrowed her eyes as she looked from her bright-eyed daughter to the older man next to her, opening her mouth to reply to him when another voice suddenly invaded the kitchen.

"Aunt Anne! Are you in here?" Aaron Hotchner's solid voice came from the hallway.

Eyes widening, Anne gave her daughter a hard look. "You didn't tell me your cousin Aaron was coming with you, girl!"

"That's cause I told her not to, Auntie Anne," Hotch grinned, walking into the kitchen and dropping his black bag in the floor as he caught his favorite aunt in his arms as she rushed across the room.

"Aaron Hotchner! I ought to blister your backside with a switch!" Anne said, hugging her favorite nephew tightly. "I reckon I oughta be grateful that you remembered the way home. As little as you get back here, I figured that you'd plum forgot the way!" she accused with gentle amusement, smacking gently at his cheek.

"Oh, I could never forget that. All I have to do is follow the smell of the best peach pie in Georgia," he teased, winking at Lizzie over Anne's head, letting his favorite cousin know that he had once again saved her from the proverbial family grilling.

"Thank you," Lizzie mouthed, pressing a hand to her pounding chest. Saints alive, that was close. She'd forgotten to warn Dave that they'd kept the precipitating details of their engagement from her old-fashioned mother. Based on what she'd told her mama, this was a love match through and through, which would last until death they did part. And at this moment, she was afraid that Dave might decide to bring about that death part much quicker than originally planned.

"Where's Uncle James, Aunt Anne?" Hotch asked, finally releasing the elder woman as he glanced around the comforting, light kitchen.

"Oh, he decided to take a field trip up to the barn. Said he'd be back in afore dark," Anne sniffed, gesturing toward the wide-open back door. "I told that fool that ya'll would be in directly, but, as usual, he heard what he wanted to hear and forgot the rest," Anne declared with a long suffering sigh.

Nodding, Aaron grinned as he wrapped an arm around his small aunt's shoulders, "That sounds like Uncle James."

"Mama, can I help with anything in here?" Lizzie asked, nervously glancing up into Dave's unreadable face. She needed something…anything to busy her hands. For the last few minutes, her so-called fiancée had been as still as a stalk of corn in the middle of a drought. Lizzie decided that she was definitely not fond of this part of his personality, much preferring the talkative, pushy, arrogant Dave that she had grown accustomed to.

"No, I think I've got everything in here under control. I'm dishin' up all you and Aaron's favorites tonight," Anne smiled, stepping toward the stove as she took the lid off of a pot, steam rising to the ceiling.

Eyes widening, Lizzie grinned suddenly, feeling at home. "All of 'em, Mama?"

"Every last one, child," Anne nodded, stirring. "You, Mr. Rossi, are gonna get treated to an old fashioned southern supper."

"Really?" Dave murmured, his mind still distracted by their earlier conversation. "Sounds delightful."

"What's on the menu, Auntie?" Aaron drawled, watching Dave's face expectantly.

"Well, backbone and beans, a mess of collard greens, fried dumplings, fried okra, fried green tomatoes, fried chicken-which Lizzie's daddy plucked for me just this morning, by the way - scrambled brains and pecan pie for dessert," Anne said, rattling of the items on her list as she smiled in their direciton

Watching Dave's face pale, Aaron bit back a laugh. "Sounds good, doesn't it, Dave?"

"Delicious," Dave said with a forced smile. Did that woman actually say BRAINS were on the menu? What the hell kind of cannibalistic family was this?

"Why don't you go show your fella 'round the farm, Lizzie," Anne suggested with a pointed look toward the back door. "Your brothers will be along before too long."


	59. Chapter 59

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Fifty-Nine**

Slipping out the back door onto the plank flooring of the wraparound porch, Lizzie bit her lip as she looked over her shoulder, catching the impassive expression on her betrothed's face. Slapping on a bright smile, she said, fake cheerfully, "Well, come on, slow poke. We've got a lot of ground to cover if I'm gonna show you the entire spread and the back forty afore Mama gets dinner on the table."

Catching her arm as she put one foot on the top step, Dave pulled the tiny spitfire to him as he said, firmly, "Elizabeth, I think we need to have a talk first, don't you?"

Keeping her smile firmly in place, she muttered, "Walk with me, Dave. The walls have ears around here, and if you don't want all of Piermont knowing our business and blabbin' from the nearest rooftop, we need to get moving."

Nodding once, he followed her down the steps and onto the worn path, the bright sun beating down on them as they walked the edge of a large field. Watching as a light gust of wind blew her curls around her cheeks, Rossi reached out a finger and slid them back into place as he asked, deeply, "You wanna tell me why your mother thinks we're deeply and madly in love, Elizabeth?"

"Cause any other answer would have had her pullin' down Granddaddy's shotgun and riding you out of town on a rail, David Rossi," she blurted out, keeping her face turned away from his. Crossing her arms over her chest, she muttered,"Mama don't cotton to anything less than true love, and I ain't gonna be the one to tell her that this is a marriage of convenience." And before he could comment, she jerked her eyes back to his as she added, sharply, "And neither will you. We're gonna let Mama be happy and enjoy the next few days, thinkin' that all's well in my world and living the dream of every happy Southern mother who gets to throw a humongous wedding for her only daughter."

Stopping in her tracks, she propped both hands on her narrow hips as she added, "Lord have mercy, Mama's been plannin' my weddin' since I was knee high to a grasshopper and went around the house wearin' a dishtowel on my head for a veil. I can't break her heart now, can I?"

Ignoring the thoughts of a tiny little girl with a mop head full of bouncing curls, Dave let out a deep sigh, shaking his head as he asked, a small grin starting to play on his lips, "So if I understand correctly, we're lying to your mother. Correct?"

"Lyin'? No, absolutely not!" Lizzie replied shaking her head furiously, shading her eyes against the bright sun. Peering out at him underneath her cupped hand, she added, "This is just a little fib for mama's own good."

"Aren't you the woman that gave me a thirty minute lecture on how a lie was a lie no matter what?" Dave retorted, crossing his arms over his chest, biting back the smile that was threatening to erupt at her antics.

"Listen here, you wanted me to tell that blamed publisher of yours that you were out of the country. Indefinitely. I don't tell whoppers like that no matter how many reasons you give me," Lizzie replied indignantly, dropping her hand to slam it against his chest. "This is just a little fib that's gonna let my mama still sleep at night instead of walking the floors worryin' about me. There's a big difference!"

"Find me a Bible, Lizzie, and show me where it lists the distinctions between an outright lie and the little fib you want me to let your mother believe," Dave teased, enjoying the guilty flush spreading over her full cheeks as the wind whipped her long hair back from her face.

"Please, Dave, do this for me!" Lizzie demanded, stomping her foot against the grassy ground. "It ain't like you've ever paid heed to any of the commandments before. 'Sides…one of them says to honor thy parents," Lizzie argued.

"Yeah, it's further down the list, sweetheart. I think "Thou shalt not lie" is right there at the top, isn't it?" Dave replied, fighting to keep a straight face as he watched two becoming red spots blush her perfect cheeks.

"Ohhhh," Lizzie groaned, rubbing a hand against her forehead, "Sometimes you make it real easy to dislike you, you know that? And I'll have you know that bearin' false witness falls below honoring your parents, thank you very much.

"Maybe we need to ask your mother for clarification on that," Rossi replied, meeting her gaze head on, his eyes flashing with unexpressed laughter. "I'm not sure I trust your version of the Scripture anymore, considering you've just told your mother a lie that would have made Congress proud."

"Nuh uh on both counts. I did not LIE, remember? And Miss Ethylene drilled those Ten Commandments into us during second grade Sunday School, and I won the prize for recitin' them first," Lizzie answered quickly, her green eyes bright in the afternoon sunlight. "So the way I see it, I 'spect the Almighty intends for us to follow them in order if there's a question, don't you think?"

"Lizzie, I'm not sure if anybody, even God himself, can follow that logic," Dave shot back, the grin he was trying to hide starting to make an appearance. "But if anybody could argue with him and convince him, it'd be you."

"I think there's a compliment in there somewhere, but you hid it awfully well," Lizzie muttered, then added, leaning toward him, "But if that means that you agree with me, then good."

"I'll keep your secrets, Elizabeth Grace," Dave murmured, lifting a hand to push a stray curl behind her ear, letting his finger linger against her soft hair.

"Really?" Lizzie asked hopefully, stepping closer.

"Really," Dave nodded, realizing he was willing to do anything to protect her from anymore pain and scandal. "Besides, you never know, I might fall head over heels in love with you yet." Frowning as she suddenly took three steps back from him, he asked, "Now what did I say?"

"Nothin'" Lizzie muttered, staring up at the sky as she ignored the tight feeling in the pit of her stomach at his words. "I just didn't wanna be in the way when the lightnin' hit you. Talk about lyin' bein' a sin…you're just askin' for the Almighty to take a swing at you."

Rolling his eyes at her dramatic flair, he reached for a slim arm, tugging her to him. "Oh, I think the Almighty might have already sent me my punishment for all my sins, honey," he winked. "Aren't you supposed to showing me around the farm?"

"You really want to see everything?" Lizzie asked, surprise filling her voice as she met his eyes. "You don't have to, you know."

Wrapping his arm around her narrow waist as he tucked her next to him, Dave said, wagging a finger in her face, "Now, Elizabeth, what did we just discuss? Your mother told us to see the farm, and I don't think we want to lie to her again, do we?"

Swatting his finger away, Lizzie muttered, "Well, don't come whinin' to me when your city boy shoes are ruined, Dave. I'm not your wife yet, so don't expect me to be cleaning up any messes you make!" She added, sharply, covering up the sudden warmth she was feeling toward him, "And Mama don't allow no dirt tracks on her clean kitchen floor!"

"I think I can watch where I'm going, Lizzie," Rossi declared, rolling his eyes as they headed toward the barn. "After all, I've got you here to guide me, don't I?"


	60. Chapter 60

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Sixty**

"What you need is a full-time keeper," Lizzie muttered, leaning her head against his shoulder as she led him toward the interior of the farm.

"That's the pot calling the kettle black," Rossi muttered, dropping a casual kiss against her hair as they stepped into the cool interior of the working barn. Looking around at the various stalls and lofts, he asked, grinning, "Why do I have a feeling that you spent a lot of time here growing up?"

Shrugging, Lizzie matched his grin as she replied, "So sue me. Every good country girl's gotta have a playhouse, and mine was that loft up yonder." She pointed toward the ceiling, motioning toward a side ladder. "I spent many a day up there playin' house and makin' my own little world."

Hearing the wistful note in her voice, Rossi stopped, easily turning her to face him, tipping her chin as he stared down into her beautiful eyes. "You know that the world we're going to make together will be good, too, don't you, Lizzie?"

"You keep sayin' that," Lizzie muttered, trying to avoid his piercing eyes. "But I still don't see how you can make a silk purse out of this sow's ear, no matter how much sorcery you use."

"I guess I'll just have to prove it to you then," Dave replied with a wink. "Now where's this hayloft where you played? I think I want to see where you let that imagination of yours run wild," he urged, dropping a gentle hand against her back.

"Up there," Lizzie said, motioning toward the wooden ladder leading up to the second level of the old barn. "Ain't nothin' up there now 'cept hay though."

Eyes twinkling, Dave urged Lizzie toward the ladder, hay softening beneath their footsteps. "Don't care. I want to see it anyway."

Placing her small hands against the old wood, Lizzie looked over her shoulder as she placed one dainty foot on the first rung, "Don't know why. If you've seen one bale of hay, you've seen 'em all, Dave."

"Keep goin', Elizabeth Grace," Dave ordered, patting her thigh. Watching her shapely rear shimmy up the ladder, Dave took a deep breath. Damn, she was a sight…all long legs and perfectly rounded backside. If he could just do something about her sassy mouth and sharp claws, he might be in business.

Seconds later, it was that sassy voice that drew him back from his lascivious thoughts of just exactly what he wanted to do with the backside in question as she hollered down, her curl-filled head popping over the loft, "You waitin' on Christmas down there or scared the ladder won't hold you?"

Grinning, Dave quickly climbed the ladder, appearing beside Lizzie a moment later. "I'm not that heavy, Lizzie."

"All right," Lizzie said, gesturing around at the piles of hay, "this is it. Nothing but lots of hay. Perfect place for playin' with your dolls and hide and seek or storing hay. But that's about it," she smiled, dusting off her dress. "Now, aren't you sorry you made the trip up here, Mr. Fancy Pants?"

"Nope," Dave grinned down at her, lifting a hand to pick a straw of hay from her hair. "You forgot another thing you can do up in these lofts. Something important, too."

"What?" Lizzie frowned, furrowing her eyebrows in consternation.

"Haylofts are perfect locations for an afternoon tryst between lovers, Elizabeth," Dave murmured, cupping her soft cheek as he bent his head. "Especially ones engaged to be married," he whispered against her lips.

"Ah-oh!" she squeaked in surprise as his surprisingly gentle lips covered hers, coaxing them quickly apart, easing her down on the soft bed of hay. Eyes sliding shut, Lizzie sighed into the talented mouth of her betrothed.

Lord, but this man knew how to kiss and she couldn't deny that the sensations he created when his lips touched hers were magical. Abandoning herself to the moment, secure in the knowledge that this man at least wouldn't physically hurt her, Lizzie buried her hands in his dark hair as his lips dropped to the slope of her neck, pressing gentle kisses down its column.

Hearing her soft moan of approval, Dave smiled against her warm skin. His girl was moving along quite nicely. Even if her mind might not entirely trust that he wouldn't hurt her, her body seemed to, and for now, he would be content with that. Smoothing a hand slowly up her side to cup one of her perfect heavy breasts, he moved his lips back to hers as he swept his thumb over its tip, drawing it to attention.

Groaning as her tongue sought his this time, Dave kissed her deeply, wondering when a woman's lips had ever been this sweetly intoxicating. For a novice, the woman in his arms had a keen skill at throwing his body into amazing turmoil, the desire to possess the pliant body beneath his almost overwhelming.

Tearing his lips away from hers, he lowered his head to the cloth covered peak his fingers had been working, covering it with his mouth. Hearing another excited whimper escape her lips had him quickly working the buttons of her thin shirtwaist dress, desperate to touch her heated flesh. Achieving victory, he ignored the clasp of her bra, choosing instead to simply sweep the lace cup of her bra aside and seal his lips around her aroused breast.

"Oh, Dave!" she gasped, arching against his mouth as her nails dug into his scalp, the hay scratching at her back a passing irritation, her entire focus on the amazing sensations he was creating.

"Hmmm," he hummed around her breast, one hand lovingly cupping the flesh to his lips, the other laced with her fingers against the hay.

"Th-the other," Lizzie panted, tangling her legs with his as his body shifted on top of hers, pressing her into the bed of hay. "K-kiss the other, p-please?"

Thrilled the red-headed beauty that had spent months captivating him was finally giving a voice, albeit haltingly, to her needs, Dave smiled against her breast, tugging it once more with his lips before shifting his attention to its twin. "My pleasure," he whispered huskily, pulling the lace material of her bra aside to deliver equal treatment.

Squeezing her eyes shut as delicious shivers slid up her spine as his lips pulled at her breast, Lizzie squeezed the hand holding hers. What was this confusing man doing to her normally sensible self? Was she really makin' free with her wares on the floor of a hayloft? Crazier still, was she actually prayin' that he wouldn't stop his exciting ministrations?

Hearing the vixen's body he covered excited mews of pleasure, Dave lovingly slid the material of her bra back into place as he kissed his way back to her lips. He had to slow down. It was imperative that he slow down, wasn't it? He couldn't make love to his future wife on a bed of hay for the first time. She deserved far better.

"Lizzie," he breathed as she lifted her head, pressing her soft lips to his again. Tangling his tongue with hers, Dave felt one of her small hands stroke down his rigid back as her other hand tightened around his. Groaning as he felt her lift her hips, rubbing against his trouser covered arousal, he lifted his head, staring down into her dazed eyes. "Honey, we need to slow down unless you want our first time together to be right now," he warned, rubbing his covered length against the apex of the vee created by her legs.

But his words fell on deaf ears. Bucking her hips against his at the incredible feeling his small movement provoked inside her, Lizzie moaned, arching her neck as his teeth lightly bit her collarbone. "Oh sweet Lord, that feels good!"

"God, yes!" Dave groaned against her ear, his resolve starting to fade once again. But he stiffened suddenly as he heard a masculine voice thunder, "Elizabeth Grace Winstead! Ain't actin' like the devil's own whore what got you in this mess?"


	61. Chapter 61

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Sixty-One**

Jerking up suddenly, her mind still reeling from the amazing sensations in her body, Lizzie pushed Dave to the side as she peered over his shoulder. Her smile quickly turning to a frown, she scrambled in the hay as she yelled out, her tone strident, "You keep your opinions to yourself, Tommy Joe Winstead, or I'll push you right off that plank, you hear me? And I ain't doin' nothin' you and Mary Alice Martin ain't done a million times up here. Or did you forget all those times I caught you, Mr. High and Mighty?"

Turning quickly to see who this interloper was, Dave sighed as he felt Lizzie push down on his shoulder, using him to gain her balance. Pulling up beside her, he said, under his breath, "Lizzie, want to introduce us?"

Smiling tightly as she stared at the man perching on the top rung of the wooden ladder to the loft, Lizzie waved a hand in his direction as she said, mock-formally, "Dave, meet Thomas Joseph Winstead. Also known as Tommy Joe, one of my big brothers and a big ole pain in my behind."

Cocking an eyebrow as he looked at the older Winstead, clad in worn jeans and a faded flannel shirt, Dave didn't have to be a master profiler to see that the man was obviously angry. And obviously disapproving of his young sister. Nodding in his direction, Dave said, evenly, "David Rossi. Nice to meet you."

Ignoring Dave completely, Tommy glared at his sister as he said, reprovingly, "You ain't learned a thing, have you, Lizzie? This is what got you…"

"I'll thank you to shut your trap right now, you overgrown oaf," Lizzie interrupted, pressing her lips together tightly as she stomped her foot against the loose hay. "In case you missed the big news, Dave is my fiancée. And what we do and where we do it is none of your business."

Snorting, Tommy shook his dark head as he snapped out, face set in stone, "Yeah, I heard that you brought a Yankee home. Couldn't get a Southern boy to marry you now, could you? Got some poor feller to take your seconds, did you?"

Feeling his anger rising with every word coming out of the other man's mouth, Dave took an involuntary step forward, a retort on the tip of his tongue. But the tiny spitfire beside him beat him to the punch, stomping toward her brother with fire in her eyes.

"Maybe I wasn't looking for a boy anymore, Tommy," Lizzie snapped back, her hands dropping to her rumpled waist as she stood just a few feet in front of him. "I got a man who knows how to treat a lady. Dave and I are very happy together, so I'll thank you to take your hind end back down that ladder before you meet the ground the hard way!"

Throwing a dark look in Dave's direction, Tommy muttered heavily, "Good luck, mister. And I hope you know what you're gettin'. Lizzie's not ….."

Stepping next to his betrothed, Dave wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders as he said, more calmly than he felt, "Lizzie's perfect in every way. And I'm the one who's lucky to have her agree to marry me." Feeling her body shake slightly as she pressed her shoulder into his, he smiled down at her as he said, evenly, "And I'm going to make her a very happy woman."

Before Tommy could respond, they all heard a clanging in the distance, ringing across the clear farm air. Throwing one last dark look in their direction, Tommy dropped down the ladder as he muttered, "Dinner's ready. Get a move on, girlie. You know Daddy don't like to be kept waitin'."

"I'll be there when I'm there!" Lizzie threw out after him, her voice starting to quiver at the end as his rumpled head disappeared over the side of the loft.

Hearing the man's stomping footsteps fading, Dave tightened his arm around her, turning her gently to face him. Staring down into her flashing green eyes, he scanned her face, not missing her flushed cheeks and her tight lips. "You okay, babe?"

Shaking her head, Lizzie let herself drop against him, pressing her cheek gratefully against his soft shirt. "I'm fine," she mumbled, her fingers bunching the fabric. "I just forgot how stupid my brothers could be."

Dave shifted them both, the floorboards creaking beneath them, as he tilted her chin. "I meant what I said, Elizabeth. You're perfect. And nothing those idi….your family thinks matters."

Sniffling quickly, Lizzie nodded against his chest, her curls sliding under his chin as she whispered, "It's okay. My brothers are not exactly understandin' 'bout what happened when…when…"

Frowning at her fading voice, Dave said, feeling his anger rise once again, "Surely they know it wasn't your fault, honey. And if they don't, then now's the time for them to…."

But the clanging bell sounded once again, interrupting his words. Pushing herself away, Lizzie pasted a tremulous smile on her lips as she said, more cheerfully than she felt, "We best not keep Mama waitin'. Those fried pickles will get soggy if they're left out too long, and Mama ain't happy if her spread's less than perfect when knife's put to plate."

Deciding for the moment to follow her lead, Dave merely nodded as he moved toward the ladder. But as he put his foot on the top rung, he looked up into her beautiful face as he said, heavily, "Three days, Lizzie. Three days and I promise we're out of here."

"I never thought I'd say this," Lizzie whispered to herself, climbing down after him, his strong hand brushing her ankle with every step, "But for the first time, I think I'll be glad to go back up North."

A few minutes later, stray fragments of hay brushed off along the way, Lizzie pulled Dave back through the back door of her parents' bright kitchen. The sound of chattering voices met them, and Dave didn't think he'd ever been so glad to see Aaron Hotchner's assessing gaze in his life.

"Dave," Hotch murmured, moving to the elder man's side, his eyes narrowing as he took in his friend's dark glower. "What the hell happened out there?" he asked, his voice pitched low.

"Not here," Dave muttered, turning his eyes to his future wife. Smiling down at Lizzie's troubled face, he murmured, "Honey, you be okay to go help your mother in the kitchen for the next few minutes? I want to talk to Aaron outside for a second," he asked, tightening his hand warmly around hers.

Nodding quickly, Lizzie looked up at Dave's concerned face. "Been dealin' with my idiot brothers all my life, Dave. I'm used to it," she shrugged, her shoulders sagging slightly. "Besides, won't one of them dare speak ugly around Mama. She nearly beat Tommy half to death when he made a crack at the hospital when it all happened. He and the man that…that hurt me…they were friends in high school."

"Were they?" Dave asked tightly, his eyes shifting over to the man in question, his hands clenching at his side.

Nodding again, Lizzie bit her lip. "I don't think he ever quite believed my side of what happened. Never mind the fact that I was layin' in a hospital bed," Lizzie muttered, swallowing hard as she tried to put those thoughts out of her mind again.

"What he probably had a harder time with is the idea that he missed what was right underneath his nose with his so-called friend. And instead of dealing with it, he took his anger out on you," Dave whispered, his words kind, wanting nothing more at that moment than to whisk her away from here, from these memories and these accusations.

"Six of one, half dozen of the other," Lizzie sighed, then drew in a deep breath as she nodded toward the back door. "Go talk to Aaron. Just don't go far. Daddy hates to hold supper for anybody," Lizzie warned softly, glancing over at the kitchen table laden with food.

"I'll just be right outside on the porch," Dave replied, squeezing her delicate fingers. "I'll be in shouting distance, honey."

"Okay," Lizzie nodded, catching her breath as Dave brushed a gentle kiss to her temple. "Don't be long," she ordered, hurrying toward the kitchen.

Waiting until Lizzie had disappeared into her mother's bright kitchen, Dave turned to look at Hotch with burning eyes. "Outside, now," he ordered tersely.


	62. Chapter 62

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Sixty-Two**

Following the older man outside, Aaron watched as Dave moved to the edge of the porch, gripping the railing in an unforgiving grip. "I see you're living through your first exposure to the old south way of life."

Glancing around to make sure they were alone, Dave ground out, "Give me one good reason that I don't jerk Elizabeth out of here right now. One good reason that I don't beat the hell out of that brother of hers! Tell me, do they all treat her like she has a Scarlet letter on her chest, Aaron? She was raped for Christ's sake!"

Moving to stand beside him, Aaron urged, his eyes serious, "First, calm down. Dealing with another enraged alpha male is the last thing Lizzie needs. Second, now perhaps, you can see why I took her home with me all those months ago. She wasn't healing here. Her middle brother, Tommy, went to school with the man that hurt her. They were friends for years. And honestly, I think he blames himself. He set up the date. He doesn't blame Lizzie. Not really. He blames himself and he takes it out on her. If it helps, he nearly killed the man that did it, Dave."

"Was he successful?" Dave growled darkly, his hand clenching at his side as he glanced over his shoulder, hoping Lizzie was far away from the door.

"I said nearly," Hotch sighed, shaking his head.

"Then, no, it doesn't help. Especially when he makes remarks like the one he made to Lizzie in the barn," Dave spat. "Brother or not, cousin or not, father or not, if one more person disrespects her in front of me, I'm not gonna bother trying to control myself," Dave hissed, the memory of her pain-filled green eyes spurring him forward.

"Dave, whatever's happened, Lizzie loves her family," Hotch warned evenly, imparting his bit of family wisdom. "So, whatever you do, you make sure she's out of the way. She's been through enough."

"You're telling ME that?" Dave asked incredulously, eyes widening as he stared at his so-called best friend. "Why don't you go inside and explain that to the men in your family?"

"Believe me, I've tried," Hotch sighed, shrugging. "In case you didn't notice it though, this family is notoriously hardheaded."

"No shit," Dave grumbled, ears perking up as Lizzie softly called his name, her lilting voice carrying through the screen door. "Hell," he growled, "Let's just get this over with."

Nodding, Hotch followed him back inside the house, praying with every step everyone would come through this meal unscathed.

Ten minutes later, Dave stared in sheer shock at the various foods filling his large china plate. Looking around the long table, he could hardly believe the multiple dishes, barely a space left clear on the white tablecloth. Muttering to Hotch, who fortunately was on his left, he asked, "You wanna tell me if every meal's like this?"

Overhearing him, Lizzie leaned over, patting his hand as she whispered, "Mama wanted to lay on the hog for our first dinner back home, Dave. But I told her to go lightly. It 'bout broke her heart, you know, to have to cut the menu down."

"This," Dave said, eyes widening as he took in the sights and smells around him, "Is going lightly?"

Hearing Dave's soft words, Mrs. Winstead frowned down at her guest as she said, shaking her head in dismay, "I knew I should have fried up that third chicken and made an extra banana pudding. Now Lizzie's fella's gonna think we don't know how to treat our guests!"

Feeling Hotch's elbow land hard on his ribs, Dave protested immediately, his voice exactly like the one he reserved for speaking to his maiden aunts, "Please don't think such a thing, Mrs. Winstead. I was just sharing with Elizabeth that I'm amazed that you were able to prepare such wonderful dishes in a short amount of time."

Smiling in his direction, Anne Winstead said cheerfully, relief flooding her voice, "Well, why don't you go first, Mr. Rossi, seein' as how this is your first time puttin' your feet under our table? Now just help yourself to those fried pickles, and don't be shy about grabbin' seconds."

Feeling Lizzie's fingers pinch his thigh, Dave spoke up quickly, "It's Dave, ma'am, and I…"

"I think," James Winstead's booming voice came from the other end of the table, interrupting without a qualm or apology, "We need to remember to return thanks to the Almighty before we have any Yankee making off with the very food I worked hard to provide."

Cocking an eyebrow, Anne said sweetly, staring down the table at her husband, "And I'm sure you'll remember to thank our gracious Lord for the hands that prepared this food. Otherwise, you might want to consider that the chicken you're going to eat soon could still be running around the back yard instead of fried nice and crispy by me!"

"Oh, hush up, woman!" James blustered, winking up the table at his wife, thinking that she was still as beautiful as the day he married her. "You forgettin' who caught and plucked these hens for you? Weren't exactly easy."

"Unlike somebody else at this table," Tommy muttered on a cough, earning himself a well placed kick underneath the table from Hotch and a stiff glare from his sister's fiancée.

"What was that, boy?" James asked his son, turning his graying head to stare at his middle child.

"I think your son was just offering to say grace, weren't you, Tommy?" Dave asked, glaring across the table at the younger man as Lizzie stiffened beside him, her fingers clenching tightly in her lap.

"Just coughin', Daddy," Tommy offered lamely, returning Dave's glare as the rest of the table watched, the summer sun peeking over the top of the curtains.

"Well, say the blessin' then, boy," James said impatiently, his fingers resting on his fork. "Food's not gonna get any hotter sittin' out."

A quick blessing later, dishes suddenly were being passed underneath Dave's nose at alarming speed, making him wonder if this family ran a Nascar pit crew in their spare time.

Leaning toward her betrothed, Lizzie whispered, seriously, "Put some of everythin' on your plate, Dave, else you'll offend Mama."

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the dish Hotch passed him, Dave murmured, "Lizzie, what IS this, honey?"

"Pork brains," Lizzie said brightly, spooning a scoop of fried okra onto her plate then another one onto Dave's. "They'll melt in your mouth with Mama's special seasoning.

"Honey, I don't think-," Dave said under his breath as he tried to pass the bowl off to Lizzie, only to have her firmly push it back into his grip.

"I think you'd best heed my warning," Lizzie growled softly, her eyes snapping at him. "She's watchin' you," Lizzie sang as she reached for the server, dishing a heaping spoonful of the meat onto Rossi's plate.

Glancing up the table, sure enough, Elizabeth was telling the truth. The matriarch of the Winstead clan was, indeed, studiously watching his every movement. Smiling tightly at the elder woman, Dave silently groaned as he looked at his overfilled plate. If he wasn't mistaken, he counted three meats, seven fried vegetables, two breads, and an assortment of pickled items, some of which he had never known could be pickled in the first place. How in the hell was he going to eat all this?

No sooner had he had the thought, he felt Aaron lean toward him. "The dog's under the table, Dave," he whispered, voice low as he shoveled another scoop of fried pickles into his mouth. "If you can't eat it, slip it to old Barnabus. It's what I've been doing for years.

Releasing the breath he'd been holding, he sent a relieved thank you heavenward as he picked up his fork. And shared half his meal with the Winstead's well-fed pooch, all to make his future wife happy. He had a feeling he might very well be doing that for the rest of his life.


	63. Chapter 63

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading our story. We're having a ball writing it. And we wanted to let our dedicated readers know that it will probably be Sunday or Monday before we update. Thanks again!**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Sixty-Three**

Nodding happily as she watched her soon to be son-in-law take a bite of her fried okra, Anne sipped her sweet tea as she turned to her only daughter. "Now, Lizzie," she started, spooning a serving of collard greens on her plate while scooting the fried chicken to the side, "we need to spend the afternoon gettin' your measurements so we can alter the dress." She clucked then, her eyes raking Lizzie's thin face as she shook her head in dismay. "And it looks like we'll be taking up more than just the length. A stiff wind could blow you away, girl. Don't they have any decent food up North?"

Popping a bite of fried pickle into her mouth, Lizzie chewed quickly, then answered, politely, "Now, Mama, you know I've been awfully busy." Feeling Dave's hand squeeze her thigh reassuringly, Lizzie let herself relax for a moment. Smiling toward her cousin then, she added, "Cousin Aaron runs a tight ship in the FBI. Not much time for lollygagging, you know."

"Well, at least you'll be wearing my dress, so we don't have to spend all our time running yon and hither lookin' for white satin," Anne said, sighing as she thought about the coming few days. Nodding to herself, she muttered, "It'll be tight, but we can get it done."

Looking up from his place beside his father, his fork halfway to his mouth, Tommy snorted, his eyes glaring down the table, "Sounds like a waste of a good white dress to me, Mama. Especially for Lizzie."

Feeling Dave stiffen beside her at her brother's words, Lizzie dropped her hand to his arm quickly, pinching him as she whispered, "Don't. Please. Not here."

"Excuse me, Thomas Joseph?" Anne said, her voice deadly calm as she nailed her younger son with a particularly knowing look. "I'll have none of that talk at my table, you hear me, son?" Patting Lizzie's hand supportively, she added, nodding her head, "My only baby girl's gonna get married in the same dress I wore and her grandma wore."

"Thank you, Mama. It'll be an honor to wear your dress," Lizzie said, shooting her mother a grateful smile as she bit the inside of her jaw, her desire for her mother's homemade cooking leaving as she felt her stomach roll.

"Maybe it'll bring some luck to this cursed union," James muttered in to his sweet tea. "Marryin' a Yankee of all things," he grumbled, dropping the heavy glass to the table with a clatter as he shook his head as his daughter's choice of a mate.

"Seriously, Aaron," Dave muttered to Hotch, feeling Lizzie's tiny hand pressing against his arm. "My address north of the Mason-Dixon line is this family's biggest gripe against me?"

"Just shovel your food, Dave," Hotch warned, elbowing his best friend in the ribs as he slid the dog another bite of fried brains, hoping old Barnabas would continue to keep his secrets.

Ignoring her husband's muttered rant, Anne continued, smiling toward her daughter as she patted her hand, "And your Aunt Beth wants to host you a shower tomorrow afternoon. Just the family, honey."

"Oh, mama, Auntie doesn't need to go to all that fuss," Lizzie replied politely, the automatic response of a southern belle on the tip of her tongue.

"Of course she does!" Anne huffed, raising her eyebrow as she added, determinedly, I gave her girls beautiful baby showers just last year. She owes me one."

"Personally, I don't understand why _anybody_ is going to all this trouble for this farce of a wedding," Tommy bit out, glaring across the table at Dave as he munched heavily on a wedge of cornbread. "It's obvious to anybody that looks at them that they're about as well matched as a cat marryin' a canary. It's plumb wrong for Lizzie to marry knowin' in a few months he'll just be divorcin' 'er. Don't seem to be much point, if you ask me."

"Nobody _asked you, _Brother!" Lizzie oldest brother Ray growled as Lizzie dropped her fork to her plate with a clatter, the sound echoing through the sunny room. Smiling sympathetically at Lizzie, Ray said softly, winking, "Ignore him, LizzieBear."

"I'm only sayin' what everybody sittin' here is thinkin'," Tommy argued, hunching his shoulders over his plate as he glared at his busy body know-it-all brother.

Glancing at Lizzie, Dave watched her fair complexion pale even further under the onslaught of her brother's insults. This was it, he thought to himself, unwilling to see her suffer for another minute when he knew there was something he could do about it. Throwing his napkin angrily on his plate, Dave leveled the younger man with a steely glare. "Outside, now!" he ordered with gleaming eyes as he rose from his seat, scraping the wooden floor in the process.

"Dave, no!" Lizzie begged, grabbing his tense arm as she tried to pull him back down, her green eyes widening in shock and worry.

"Happy to, Old Timer," Tommy smirked, pushing back his own chair as he took a swig of tea before dropping the glass.

"Tommy, sit down, you idiot," Ray growled, rising from his seat at the table as well, catching his mother's eye and nodding knowingly.

"Aaron, do something, please!" Lizzie begged, trying to hold on to Dave's arm as he turned from the table, but not able to stop him. Surely Aaron would have a level head, wouldn't he?

Moving to follow Dave, Hotch shook his head. "It'll be okay, Lizzie," he soothed quickly before following Dave out the back door, the screen slapping against the frame loudly.

"Let him go, girl," James snorted, waving her back down into her seat. "Mayhap your Yankee'll be able to knock some sense into my son's fool head," he murmured, watching both his son's stalk outside, their boot steps loud.

"Mama!" Lizzie wailed, turning to her mother for support as she kept one eye on that door.

Reaching out to cover her daughter's small hand, Anne whispered, "Honey, your man couldn't let that pass." Looking up the table at her husband, she charged, narrowing her eyes, "You can't deny that's not the mark of a strong man."

"I'm reservin' judgment 'til I see who wins the fight," James shrugged, shoving a biscuit in his mouth as he reached for another spoonful of greens.

"Those fools best mind the little green men," Aunt Myrtie sighed, patting her graying head with one head as she tried to remember where she had put her flyswatter. "They don't cotton to a bunch of strangers messin' around in their play pretties."

Staring at her Aunt Myrtie, Lizzie whispered in horror, "Oh, sweet Lord, help!"


	64. Chapter 64

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Sixty-Four**

Turning as Lizzie's youngest brother, Tommy, pushed open the screen door and ambled onto the wraparound porch, Dave watched as Ray hastily closed the heavy wooden door behind them.

"So, the big, bad big city profiler wants to have a chat with me," Tommy smirked, tilting his head and smiling smugly as he stepped out onto the porch.

"No," Dave drawled, shaking his head, "You'd have been lucky if you'd been talking to that guy. No, right now, the grown man that's marrying your sister wants to slam some sense into that thick skull of yours," Dave growled, grabbing the collar of the smirking younger man and swinging him around to slam into one of the four large wooden posts supporting the porch. "Maybe you'd like to tell me what the hell your problem is with your sister, Boy?" Dave asked tightly, keeping his hands firmly wrapped in the other man's shirt.

"My problem?" Tommy growled, struggling against the older man's surprisingly strong grip. "Maybe it's the way she keeps goin' out of her way to bring shame on this family! Once is unfortunate enough...but this..."

"This?" Dave asked dangerously, narrowing his eyes on the agitated man he had pinned to the white post. "What IS this exactly, Tommy?"

Glancing over at Aaron, Ray crossed his arms over his chest as he muttered, "Boy never could learn to keep his mouth shut. Always flapping his tongue when he shoulda kept his lips smacked together."

Nodding, Aaron acknowledged his cousin's comment but kept his eyes on his team member as he said, low voice, "Dave, now's probably not the time to…."

"Tommy and I are just having a little chat, Aaron," Rossi said, his eyes glued to Lizzie's younger brother. "And he's about to tell me why he finds me marrying his sister such an affront to his sensibilities."

"Yer just gonna drop her like a hot potato when you reach the weddin' night anyway," Tommy said with false bravado, the feel of the older man's arm pressing against his throat heavier. Smirking, he cocked a brow as he said snidely, "She's awfully free with her wares. Bet you've already found that out though, haven't you, City Boy?"

And as Dave's fist made perfect contact with the idiot's jaw, all three men watched, almost in comical slow motion, as the youngest Winstead son went tumbling over the railing of the front porch, landing precisely in the middle of his mother's prized Southern Beauty rose bushes.

*****

Hearing the yelp and sudden scream come through the house, loud enough to break through the solid oak doors, Anna Winstead met her husband's eyes. Nodding once, she stood up slowly, wiping her mouth with her napkin as she moved toward the refrigerator.

Standing up suddenly at the commotion, Lizzie looked from her parents to her crazy auntie as she said, concerned, "What's going on? What happened out there?" Glancing toward the closed door, she worried out loud, her fingers pressing against her trembling lips,"You don't think that…"

"What I think, Lizzie girl," her mother said calmly, handing a bag of frozen peas to her daughter, "Is that you might need to take this outside. And give it to whichever one of them looks to be hurt the most."

Glancing up from her mashed potatoes, Auntie Myrtie added, feeble voice, "And tell those ruffians to stay away from the roses. That's where the spaceship is parked, you know. My little green men ain't got no backup to get'em back up to the home planet when the comet comes this way."

"I'll do that, Auntie," Lizzie assured her senile relative, grabbing the bag of cold vegetables as she almost ran toward the door. Sliding against the worn hardwoods, she jerked open the doorknob as she stepped out into the sunlight. And she stared at the backs of three men, who were leaning over the broken rail of her Mama's porch, staring down at something that appeared to be quite interesting.

"What in tarnation is goin' on out here?" Lizzie snapped, tossing the bag of peas from hand to hand as the three faces turned toward her quickly, two of them looking sheepish. But David Rossi's face was anything but repentant, his eyes darkening even more as he saw his fiancée.

"Don't worry about it, Lizzie," Dave said evenly, massaging his knuckles with his other hand as he added, calmly, "Everything's fine."

"The devil you say!" Lizzie exclaimed, stomping toward them as she looked around the front porch, searching for the missing family member. Narrowing her eyes at the man she was supposed to marry, she asked, "What have you done to Tommy?" Not even giving him a chance to answer, she spun on one foot as she aimed toward Aaron Hotchner, her voice rising with each word. "And you! You're supposed to be the sane one in this group. I would have expected such from Dave or Ray, but…"

"Gee, thanks a lot, Sissy," Ray mumbled, glancing casually over the edge of the porch.

"Now, Lizzie," Aaron began, letting out a deep sigh as he wondered how he was going to navigate these murky waters. But his thoughts were interrupted by a loud moaning sound, which drew her attention away from him.

Eyes widening as she heard the moan of pain, Lizzie demanded, "What was that? Tommy, is that you?"

"He's fine, Lizzie," Ray assured her, nodding toward Rossi as he added, "The fall might have knocked some sense in his fool head. If not, maybe your man's fist connectin' with his jaw could have done the job."

Peering over the banister herself, Lizzie stared in shocked amazement at the sight of her middle brother lying firmly in the middle of her mother's various rose bushes, his sleeves tangled on the thorny stems as he pulled various colors of rose petals from his bruised face. Shaking her head, long red curls bouncing, Lizzie said the first thing that came into her addled mind. "Oh, Tommy Joe, Auntie Myrtie's gonna kill you. You just destroyed her spaceship!"

"What the hell?" Dave asked, narrowing his eyes at his betrothed, wondering if the Southern air had finally destroyed all of them.

"Don't ask, Dave," Aaron drawled slowly, letting himself smile for the first time, enjoying the moment. "You really don't want to know."

"Dammit, Lizzie Grace," Tommy yelled up at her, throwing a crushed petal at her as he pressed his other hand to his swollen eye, "That damn Yankee you drug down here's gonna learn his place if I…."

Leaning around his fiancée, Dave pushed her backward toward her other brother as he glared at the man on the ground. "I'd quit while you were ahead, Tommy. That was just my first shot. Yelling at Lizzie isn't exactly going to advance your cause."

"He ain't gonna listen, Dave," Lizzie said with a roll of her eyes, throwing the bag of peas at her brother's head, hitting him with perfect accuracy. "He ain't got the sense God gave a goose." Suddenly rounding on her soon to be husband, Lizzie slammed her hand against his chest as she yelled, loudly, "And what do you mean tearing up my Mama's front porch? She's gonna have a conniption fit when she sees what you did to her railin'!"

Capturing her hand and pulling her closer, Dave grinned down into her agitated face as he said, solemnly, "It wasn't me, honey. Is it my fault that your brother's hard head hit it twice as he went over?"

Ignoring Tommy's sputters still coming from the ruined rose garden, Lizzie pulled Dave's beard as she declared, "You try usin' that explanation on Mama and see how far it gets ya! She'll have the lot of you out here rebuildin' afore sunup!"

The door opened again right then, causing Lizzie to turn quickly at the sound of her Mama's voice. Muttering to Rossi as she felt him pull her back against him, she threatened, "And usin' me as a human shield won't help!"

"A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do, babe," Rossi mumbled in her ear, trying to hide his grin as he felt her press back against him. No matter what so-called punishment his soon to be mother-in-law might inflict on them, it would be worth it to know that he had protected this amazing woman. Tightening his arms around her, he realized, then and there, that he was actually looking forward to a life with this feisty Southern belle, no matter how crazy or convoluted it might be.


	65. Chapter 65

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Sixty-Five**

"Land sakes, what have you boys been doin' out here? Recreatin' Sherman's march through Atlanta?" Mrs. Winstead exclaimed as she stomped out onto her front porch, her eyes narrowing as she saw her destroyed railing. Tisking as she shook her head, she wagged a finger at each of the so-called men in turn as she stated, "I expect this mess to be cleaned up, you hear me?"

Mumbles of "Yes, ma'am" could be heard, but just barely, above the sudden groan from below. "You ain't worried 'bout me, Mama?" Tommy's plaintive voice could be heard coming across the sound of a suddenly tweeting bird.

Cocking a red brow, Lizzie's mother stalked toward her broken rail as she peered darkly into the destruction. "Thomas Joseph Winstead! You have just destroyed every rose that I intended o use in your sister's bouquet!"

The slight figure of his aunt appeared behind his mother just then, her flyswatter suddenly in hand as Myrtie declared, voice shocked, "Quit worryin' about those roses, Annie girl! How are my little green men gonna get back to Mars now? Your fool son's sittin' on their one and only space ship!"

"Did she say space ship?" Rossi muttered in Lizzie's ear, tightening his hands on her hips, well prepared to use his future wife as a human shield again if the aliens descended from outer space.

"Shh, the good part's about to start," Lizzie warned, eyes brightening as she watched her aunt suddenly raise her flyswatter.

And as her less-than-thrilled brother finally stood, his bruised and battered body evident, he yelled again as his aunt's flyswatter made contact with his head and shoulders. "Dammit, Auntie, it ain't my fault! That crazy Yankee pushed me over!"

Eyes widening as her middle brother began limping back up the shallow steps of the porch, Lizzie's mouth dropped in shock at that sudden piece of information. Turning in Dave's arms, she smacked his chest sharply, demanding, "What did you do to my brother?!"

"Handed his ass to him, by the look of it," James Winstead grunted from the back door, surveying the damage to his porch with a discerning eye. "Learned your lesson yet, Son?" James asked, leaning a bony shoulder against the door frame.

"Watch your mouth, Father," Anne muttered, frowning as she stared over the broken railing at her beautiful roses, now smashed to smithereens. How exactly was she going to be able to create the perfect bouquet if all of her perfect roses were crushed beyond recognition?

But the rest of the family seemed more concerned about items far more important than the upcoming wedding. Matters of celestial travel had to be settled first.

"How do you expect them little green men to get home now?!" Aunt Myrtle wailed angrily, smacking Tommy's rear end with her flyswatter, pulling a tortured groan from his throat.

"Auntie, mind the thorns!" Tommy begged, unsuccessfully trying to dance away from her flying swatter, remembering belatedly that his auntie might be loony but she was had perfect aim. "I'm gonna be diggin' them out for months!" he said with a glare at Rossi, dodging another swing.

"Better than tryin' to find the teeth he COULD have knocked out," Ray retorted, rolling his eyes as his brother danced across the porch. "I'd save my whinin' if I were you," he said with a threatening look and a jerk of his head toward Dave.

"You takin' that Yankee's side against your own blood?" Tommy huffed, trying to avert another aggressive swing from a muttering Myrtle.

"How could you, Dave?! He's my brother," Lizzie wailed, stomping toward Tommy and attempting to brush some of the rose petals from his shirt. Glaring over her shoulder, she hissed, "You couldn't stop at hittin' him? You just had to go throwin' him off the porch, didn't you?

Shrugging, Ray defended Dave easily, leaning a shoulder against the edge of the railing, "Sissy, I saw the whole thing. Yer man mighta thrown a punch, but the klutz went ass over teakettle all on his own."

"Thank you, Ray," Dave said with an appreciative nod at the only one of Lizzie's relatives besides Hotch he thought he might stand a fighting chance with. "Appreciate the support."

"Don't you two be makin' friends," Lizzie warned, knocking a particularly large full rose off of her brother's head, wincing as the thorns caught in his hair. Reaching up to detangle the stem, Lizzie yanked the rose and a large clump of hair out of her brother's head as she snorted, "One of you at a time is about all I can stand!"

"Now, honey," Rossi said sweetly with a smile, his eyes narrowing as he watched her help the very brother that had disparaged her to begin with. "You wanted me to get along with your family, didn't you?"

"And you're doing such a great job of it, Dave," Lizzie muttered, stomping back in his direction as Aunt Myrtle once again set on her brother with the flyswatter, swinging wide and random.

"Don't worry, Lizzie girl," her mother said wisely, narrowing her eyes as she looked around at all of the gathered males. "All of them are going to learn to love one another while they're rebuilding my front porch. I'm not gonna have company comin' for your shower with this place lookin' like Hurricane Hannah set up housekeepin'." Turning to look at her husband, she declared, loudly, "James, you best call down to hardware store and get them to make a delivery out here before Sandy Lee's boy quits for the day. And I don't want any of that second-rate stuff they try to pass off as quality, you hear?"

"I think they got that message the last time when you cornered the owner after church services and gave him a piece of your mind," James muttered, rolling his eyes at his wife's tirade.

"What was that?" Anna said sweetly, narrowing her eyes at her husband, hands propping on her hips.

"Nothing, dear," James said just as sweetly, nodding nicely toward his wife. "I'll take care of it immediately."

"And seein' as how it was all Dave's fault," Lizzie said brightly, smiling up threateningly at her fiancée, "He'll be glad to pay for whatever is necessary. Won't you, Dave?"

"But Lizzie," Dave muttered, glaring down at her flashing eyes, "I can't be held responsible if your brother's got a hard head, can I? I don't see why I'm the one that has to pick up the expenses."

"Cause I said so, that's why," Lizzie said with a firm nod, turning back to smile at her mother as she added, evenly, "Now, Mama, are you sure you don't want the whole porch redone while we're at it?"

"Elizabeth…." Dave objected, startled, only to feel the pointy jab of her elbow land against his elbow with a force he didn't know her tiny body possessed. She hissed sharply, "Shut up, Dave. Whatever my Mama wants, my Mama gets. Got it?"

Smiling up at her soon to be son-in-law, Anna Winstead said cheerfully, "Now that's awfully sweet of you to offer, Dave, but I think we'll just be fixin' this one railin'."

Smiling tightly as he felt Lizzie's elbow press against his bruised ribs once again, Dave said with a genuine voice, "It's my pleasure, Mrs. Winstead." Hearing Aaron Hotchner's sudden cough beside him, he made a mental note to pummel the younger man at a later date. Damn Southern family.

"Oh, now, we don't stand on ceremony down here," Anna said warmly, nodding. "You just go right ahead and me Mama like the rest of the kids do," she ordered, brushing past her husband to go back inside. "I'll make some lemonade for you boys. I suggest ya'll get movin'. Daylights burnin'."

Passing his credit card to Lizzie's father with a unrepentant grin, Dave drawled, "There you go, Da-"

Holding up a finger, James Winstead shook his head quickly. "You can call me James. You can call me Mr. Winstead. If you're feelin' particularly plucky, you can try callin' me Jimmy. Devil take it, call me Mud. Ideally, you just won't call me. But, under no circumstances, do I wanna hear you callin' me "daddy". Got it?"

Listening as the other's tried to stifle their laughter, Dave merely inclined his head. "Whatever you say, Father Winstead."

Glaring at Dave as he pursed his lips, James shook his head, wondering for the umpteenth time whatever inspired his daughter to take up with this dadblamed carpetbagger.

"Bein' called father by a damned Yankee. I can die now. I've heard it all," an ancient cracked voice said from behind them all.

Eyes widening, Lizzie shoved away from Dave, running to throw herself at a stooped wizened man leaning heavily against his cane in the doorway of the house. "Pappy! You're up from your nap!" Lizzie shouted in excitement, hugging his thin shoulders with abandon. Turning, her face happy and unguarded, Lizzie yelled, "Dave! Come meet granddaddy!"


	66. Chapter 66

**Author's Note: Please let us know what ya'll think! Thanks for reading!**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Sixty-Six**

His eyes widening as he realized there was yet another member of the Winstead family hidden somewhere in this house, Dave plastered on his best publicity smile as he stepped toward his fiancée. He could only hope that this was the last relative that would come onto the scene. Nodding toward the older man, he said, formally, "David Rossi. Please to meet you."

Ignoring Rossi's outstretched hand, the elder Winstead nodded instead, looking toward his smiling granddaughter with narrowed eyes. "This Yankee your beau, girlie?"

"Yes, sir," Lizzie answered cheerfully, reaching out a hand to grab Dave's arm and pull him close. Whispering, she said hurriedly, "Pappy's almost blind as a bat, Dave. You have to bend down and look directly into his face before he can see you clearly." Turning her attention back to her grandfather, she said, loudly, "Dave and I are getting married in a few days, Pappy."

"Cain't see. Ain't deef, girlie," her grandfather said, shifting his feet as he stomped his cane on the wooden porch. "All's your mama's been yammerin' 'bout for days since your Daddy flew home on the silver bird is your vows." Raising his lined face to peer closely at the newcomer, Grandfather demanded, heavily, "Where you plannin' on buildin' my grandbaby a house, boy? Her mama ain't gonna cotton to her bein' too far out of sight."

"Actually, sir," Dave started, then saw Lizzie's hands waving, pointing toward her grandfather's face. Nodding resignedly, Dave did as she instructed, bending his knees to position his face in front of the older man. "Actually, sir, I have a house already. Lizzie will be moving into my home outside of DC."

Granddad's rheumy eyes narrowed even more as he said, voice stern, "You mean you intendin' to steal my little petunia and make her live in that Sodom and Gomorrah? You got sump'in agin the South, boy?"

"Absolutely not," Dave denied quickly, shaking his head as he tried to remind himself that he was doing this for Lizzie. "Especially when someone as lovely as your granddaughter originates from it. That just happens to be where my job is located."

"He works with me, Granddaddy," Aaron said loudly, moving from his position propped against one of the columns of the porch. "At the Bureau," Hotch added helpfully as he came into his grandfather's line of sight, knowing that his grandfather was very proud of the fact that his grandson worked for the government.

Scrunching his nose, Granddaddy spat, barely missing one of Dave's Italian loafers. "You can vouch for this Yankee, Boy?" he asked, turning his head in the direction of Aaron's voice.

"I can, Pappy," Hotch nodded, holding his breath as he watched his ancient grandfather again turn toward Dave. Knowing the old man, he'd be just as likely to haul off and smack Dave with his cane as he would be to pull a revolver out of his pocket and just shoot him on sight.

"You can support my little peach?" he asked suspiciously, trying to focus on Dave's face.

"Absolutely," Dave nodded, sidestepping again as Lizzie's grandfather released a steady stream of tobacco from his mouth. Damn! Was that man actually aiming for his shoes? Were these people positive the elderly man was blind? He had better aim than an expert marksman.

"You sure you couldn't do better than this damn Yankee, sugar?" Granddaddy asked suddenly, squeezing Lizzie's arm. Nodding shortly, he added, "Bo Perkins down at the Buy 'n Bag was always sweet on you, honey. And his daddy left him that big ole tobacky farm in his will just this year."

Hearing her brothers' snorts at those words, Lizzie tried to control a shudder at the thought of the pimply-faced boy that had pursued her all throughout high school. The boy's idea of a date had been to pick her up in his father's farm truck and drive around the center of town real slow, passing the town monument twenty times before he called it a night. Patting her grandfather's shoulder, she reached out for Dave's hand as she said, politely but firmly, "Bo and I are just friends, Pappy. And besides, last I heard, he was steppin' out with Sue Beth Sanderson, remember?"

Leaning down, Rossi grinned as he whispered in her ear, "Sounds like I have competition. Should I be worried?"

Elbowing him sharply in his stomach, Lizzie grinned as she heard his sudden humph, his fingers tightening around hers.

"You're a fur sight prettier than that Sanderson girl," Grandfather asserted, shaking his head as he spat again. "Poor thing took after her mammy's side of the family, bless her heart. Bo's got eyes, ain't he? He drop that missy like a hot tater if you was to bat your lashes in his di-rection."

"Now, Pappy," Lizzie said firmly, deciding to head her determined grandfather off at the pass, "I'm wearin' Dave's ring now. You wouldn't want me to commit breach of promise, would you?"

Raising his dim eyes to glare in the direction of the tall man beside his favorite granddaughter, the elder Winstead huffed as he declared, "Ain't met a Yankee that couldn't be beat yet, girlie. That plot of land on the back forty can surely hide another body if need be. Ain't gave up its secrets yet."

Raising an eyebrow, Dave glanced over Lizzie's head at the face of a laughing Aaron Hotchner as he asked, under his breath, "Did your grandfather just threaten to kill me and hide my body?"

Bringing the end of his cane down on Dave's instep with admirable precision, Granddaddy growled, "Weren't no threat, you Yankee whippersnapper! It be a promise if you break our Lizzie's heart. And since I can't change 'er mind, you'd best step lively."

Dave bent forward to cradle a foot that had been offended more times in the last week than it had in his entire life. What the hell was WRONG with these people? Was there some sort of unspoken rule that all Yankees would suffer boundless abuse the moment they stepped into Dixie


	67. Chapter 67

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Sixty-Seven**

"Guess you heard that, Slick!" Aunt Myrtle sniffed, whacking Dave's bent head with her fly swatter as Lizzie's grandfather stomped back inside the house.

"Ouch! Lizzie!" Dave yelled, jerking to the side as he tried to avoid that infernal weapon, his feet tripping over the edge of the rocker. Reaching out to grab hold of the wooden rail, he snorted, "A little help here wouldn't be remiss!"

"Yeah, Lizzie, help your old man out," Tommy smirked, enjoying the show as he rubbed a particularly sore spot on the crown of his head, scraping his finger with yet another thorn.

"I wouldn't talk if I were you," Myrtle growled, popping Tommy's thorn abused rear sharply with her weapon. "Those little green men out there is all kinds of riled up, Boy!" she huffed, gesturing toward the yard with a dark look.

"Auntie, it was HIS fault," Tommy yelped, pointing at Dave as he danced away from her, tenderly rubbing his butt.

"I ain't hearin' no hammerin' yet, boys," Anne called warningly from the house, her lilting voice floating down the hallway. "Idle hands are the devil's own work!"

"We're on it, Auntie Anne," Hotch called back immediately, stalling any other responses before they could be muttered. Looking at the assembled group on the damaged porch, he said, hiding his grin, "I think work best commence soon, guys, before she comes back out and borrows Auntie Myrtie's swatter."

"Mama wields a mean switch," Ray nodded in agreement, turning a pointed glare to his younger brother. "And seein' as how it was your hard head that broke the wood, I suggest you start makin' Mama happy."

"Me?" Tommy griped again, pressing his back gingerly against a porch post as he protected his posterior from further attacks. "Mama didn't say nothin' 'bout this bein' a one-man job. Seem to remember hearin' her issuin' marchin' orders to ya'll, too."

Reaching out for her senile aunt's hand just then, Lizzie pulled the muttering woman toward the screen door as she said, sweetly, "And on that note, Auntie and I will go make you boys some lemonade. Appears you're gonna need it." And with a flounce, she left her fiancé alone on the porch with her brothers and cousin.

Watching the woman that had bewitched him into following her to hell desert him in his hour of need, Rossi sighed as he turned toward Aaron Hotchner. Gesturing toward the damaged wood, he said, shrugging his shoulders, "I take it that we're the construction crew?"

"You might be a bit quick on usin' that we word, feller," Ray answered quickly, glancing over at his cousin for confirmation. Seeing the older man nod, he added, dropping down into the comfortable wicker chair behind him, "Seein' as how Aaron and I were mindin' our own bus'ness while you two went to tearin' up the surroundin's, seems only fittin' that you two be the ones to get your hands dirty fixin' the situation." Looking up at his cousin, he asked, casually, "You agree, Cousin Aaron?"

"Ray, I think that may just about be the smartest thing I've ever heard you say," Aaron nodded, dropping into the chair beside him with a pointed nod at Dave.

*********

Two hours later, Dave hammered yet another nail into the wood of the porch as he heard Ray reminisce, "And don't forget the time that the three of us to convinced LizzieBear to make like Mary Poppins and fly off hayloft."

"Hell, that one Daddy liked to kill us afore," Tommy chuckled, wiping his sweaty brow with the back of his hand as he gestured to Dave for another piece of wood.

"You idiots did WHAT to Lizzie?" Dave growled, straightening up as a breeze wafted up on the damaged porch.

"Hell, Dave, we were just kids. I think LizzieBear was, what, Aaron...five? Six?" Ray asked, raising his chilled glass of lemonade to his lips, smacking them happily.

"No more than that," Aaron chuckled, stretching his legs out as he rocked slightly. "Don't worry, Dave, by the time Uncle James and I were through with these two, they could barely walk."

"And might I remind you that Lizzie ran away from that fall laughin' like a hyena," Tommy remembered, smiling faintly as he reached for another piece of wood.

"Yeah, well, she wasn't laughin' last time she ran away from us, Brother," Ray said, turning serious suddenly, straightening his shoulders. "Seriously, man, lay off LizzieBear or the next ass kickin' is comin' from your big brother," he warned solemnly, his eyes backing up his words.

"You won't get the chance," Dave grumbled, his jaw clenching at the thought. Glaring at Tommy, he smiled grimly. "I'll kill him outright."

"You just pound your wood over there, Mr. Big City and I'll pound mine," Tommy retorted, angrily swinging his hammer down on a nail, pounding it in with one shot. "Besides," Tommy growled after a long moment, "it ain't like I even know how to act around Lizzie anymore."

"Well, I'm fairly sure jackass isn't the route you wanna take," Ray replied, reaching out a booted foot to nudge Tommy's broken ass.

"What I don't understand is how you can blame her for any of this. Of everyone involved, Lizzie was the only one I'm sure wasn't at fault," Hotch added sternly, staring down at his young cousin as he shifted uncomfortably.

Clenching his jaw as he placed another nail in place, Tommy kept his eyes on the job as he muttered, "Ain't 'xactly blamin' her. Just ain't got no idea how to keep from killin' that bastard."

Raising his eyebrow at Tommy's mumbled admission, Rossi cast a glance over his shoulder at Hotch. Seeing the younger man's nod as he realized, too, the implications of that statement, Rossi turned back to Tommy as he said, voice tight, "So instead of focusing your anger on the one man that deserves it, you've been taking it out on Elizabeth. Your sister. His victim."

Slamming the head of the hammer harder than necessary at the treated wood, Tommy reached for another nail as he snorted, "Damn sure wouldn't be a victim if I'da been there. Woulda pounded that son of a bitch's head into the hard Georgia ground myself if I'da got there first!"

"That's understandable," Aaron said calmly, leaning back in his wicker chair as he watched his cousin closely.

"But not helping Lizzie at all, considering the way your showing it now," Dave added, reaching for the brown paper bag and scooping out the penny weight nails, scattering them along the new rail.

"So whattya think I do?" Tommy said darkly, refusing to meet any of their eyes as he kicked the paper bag with his foot. "Can't act like nothing never happened. Damn, I saw my baby sister laid up in a freakin' hospital bed with tubes comin' outta her 'cause I didn't know my own best bud was one of those psychos y'all hunt all the time."

"It's not like they go around wearing a sign and flashing identification," Aaron answered knowingly, having had those same thoughts many times in the past.

"And you ain't the only one who's stayed awake at nights wonderin' about the what ifs, little brother," Ray added softly, his words as much an admission as his brother's had been.

"You too?" Tommy asked, suddenly looking over at his older brother with wide eyes, the hammer hanging loosely in his roughened hand.

"Sure I have," Ray answered with a simple nod. "But Lizzie told me, afore Aaron took her up North, that what happened couldn't be undone, and I'd best not be wastin' my time livin' in the past. Figured my time's better spent protectin' her future." Grinning then, he jerked his head toward Rossi as he said, "Like with this one. Ain't quite sure I'm cottonin' to my baby sister settin' up housekeeping with a bonafide Yankee. It's against the laws of nature."

Rolling his eyes at the younger men, Dave was tempted to throw his hammer. At their heads. But at least they had moved far beyond the animosity, which was probably as close to a miracle as he was ever going to experience. Rolling his eyes, he muttered, "Listen you two, if my address is your biggest beef against me, I'm gonna count myself lucky and hold my peace. Just like your sister told me to."


	68. Chapter 68

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Sixty-Eight**

Snorting, Tommy smirked as he cast a sideways glance at his soon-to-be brother-in-law. "So Baby Girl is already issuin' orders, huh? Maybe you are good for 'er."

Leaning forward to prop his elbows against his knees, Ray studied the man that had decided to join forces with his family. "I'll say this...she seems to be alive again. When Aaron took her out of here...her eyes...they were just dead inside. Saddest thing I ever saw. Sum bitch didn't just break her body....he broke her spirit. But," he drawled, leaning back in his chair, "that sparkle's back now."

"I'm not going to ever intentionally hurt your sister, boys," Rossi said quietly, looking between the two men, recognizing the unspoken questions still flashing in their eyes. "This relationship between us might have gotten off to a rocky start, but..."

"Accordin' to daddy, you got 'er stoned and took her to bed," Tommy snorted, lining up another nail against the pressured wood. "I think rocky is a bit of an understatement."

"That was his interpretation of events," Dave said slowly, nodding. Glancing over at Hotch, he then turned toward the two brothers as he said, calmly, "But what he never allowed me to explain was that it was prescription drugs I fed Lizzie, fully endorsed by the ER physician that prescribed them...and I fed them to her because she was in pain. Getting mugged in the worst part of DC will do that to a girl. I was in bed with her because she was cold. I fell asleep. Sometime during the night, she must have had a hot flash. Hell, I don't know. But I can promise you that I never touched your sister inappropriately. But when your father arrived, he assumed differently. Hell, I don't blame him. He did me a favor. Because now, for better or worse," Dave admitted, shrugging his shoulders, "I don't want to think about my life without your bossy minx of a sister in it. Neither of you need worry. I'm not going to allow myself or anyone else to hurt her any more than she's already been injured. And that includes both of you," he added with a pointed look at Tommy.

"Well," Ray said, smiling slowly as he tipped his glass at Rossi, "I guess that's good 'nuff for me." Looking at Tommy, he raised a brow. "You, Bro?"

"I'll talk to Lizzie," Tommy mumbled. "I'll tell 'er that I'm sorry." Lifting his pain-darkened eyes to Dave's, he added, "I never thought she was at fault. I know what he did to her. And personally, I think takin' her way from here is a good idea. He'll be out soon....and seein' him...it'd kill 'er, I think. He claims to this day things got outta hand cause Lizzie was a'teasin'. I knew it weren't true. Knew it then and know it now. But this is a small town. And whether we like it or not, it's full of small minded people that believe the man with the most money. Billy's daddy was the damn mayor. He had a lotta pull. Still does."

Leaning forward as he rested a fist against the new board, Dave whispered dangerously, "I'll tell you a secret, son. So. Do. I. And no one is getting a second go at my future wife. Ever."

"Good," Tommy nodded once, spitting a stream of tobacco juice over the edge of the newly repaired railing, hitting one of the roses that had survived the earlier disaster. "Money talks 'round these parts."

Cocking an eyebrow as he crossed his arms behind his head, Ray interrupted, asking with a growing grin, "Speaking of money, Lizzie seemed awfully free with your credit card earlier, and that girl's cheap enough to make the buffalo scream on a nickel. Exactly how much money we talkin' 'bout here? You a Rockefeller or something?"

"Not exactly," Rossi hedged, reaching for his hammer once again as he ignored Lizzie's oldest brother.

Reaching over the edge of the chair, Ray smacked his cousin's arm as he demanded, "Okay, Aaron, tell what you know. How much is Mr. Moneybags over there hidin' underneath the mattress?"

"You might as well tell them, Dave," Aaron said, not hiding the grin that was playing on his lips. "Anyway, Penelope Garcia's due to arrive tomorrow, and she'll tell everything she knows within five minutes of landing in Georgia."

"Thanks a lot, Aaron," Rossi hissed, shaking his head as he imagined grabbing his soon to be wife and jumping the nearest plane out of here. The destination wouldn't matter. At this point, a small deserted island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean sounded like heaven on earth, far away from family, friends, and wedding plans.

"Wai…it just a minute," Tommy said slowly, dropping his hammer as he turned to stare at Rossi again, his eyes narrowing. "I knew I'd seen you some're before. You wrote all those books those talkin' heads are always yammerin' about on the TV, didn't ya?"

"I think the jig is up, Dave," Hotch chuckled from his seat, pushing against the planked floor to set the rocker in motion.

"Jumpin' Jehosofat, Ray! This slick bastard is a downright celebrity," Tommy said, his jaw dropping as he stared Dave.

"Close your mouth, Bro, afore you get a bellyful of flies," Ray snorted, kicking Tommy with the tip of his boot again. Turning back to Dave, Ray grinned, "So...what you're sayin' is there ain't gonna be no problem takin' care of our baby sister the way she should be cared for. That right?"

Looking Ray squarely in the eye, Dave replied, "You have my word that Elizabeth will never lack for anything, Ray."

"LizzieBear's never been much on material possessions, Moneybags," Ray sighed, shaking his head as he thought of his little sister. "Your money's safe enough."

"Gonna make her sign one of those fancy agreements to protect all your assets?" Tommy asked suspiciously.

"Tommy, now might be a good time to mind your business," Aaron suggested carefully, watching Dave stiffen at the younger man's question.

"No," Dave said shortly, pounding in another nail with more force than necessary, the sound echoing in the quiet yard.

"No?" Hotch, Ray and Tommy asked in unison, shock evident in their combined voices.

"It won't be necessary," Dave growled without looking up.

"And why's that?" Tommy asked, intrigued now. As apparently were the other men, both having leaned forward in their seats.

"Because I won't be divorcing Lizzie. Ever," Dave replied in a voice set in stone as he gave each man a hard look.

"Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle," Hotch murmured, eyes widening in surprise as he studied his old friend with new eyes. "Hell must have frozen over when I wasn't looking."


	69. Chapter 69

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Sixty-Nine**

Staring at his boss and best friend, Dave shook his head sadly. "And now you've been sucked back into the fold, too. Animal euphemisms have taken over your brain," Dave muttered in disgust, wondering for the millionth time what exactly had drawn him to the Deep South.

"And yours has obviously been affected by something also," Hotch replied, cocking an eyebrow as he stared at his one-time mentor. "I'm sure you can understand my surprise since I don't remember you having that same feeling about the three other marriages."

Wincing as he heard the words come out of his so-called friend's mouth, Rossi mentally prepared himself for the backlash that was to come as soon as Lizzie's brother's comprehended that statement. "Again, thanks a lot, Aaron. Now would be a great time for you to gag yourself if you don't mind."

His eyes narrowing, Ray slowly sat up straight in his chair as he looked at the man that professed to love his sister. "Is what Cousin Aaron says true? You been hitched up before?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Tommy joined his brother in the questioning as he added darkly, "Sounds like he's worn a monkey suit for more'n one walk down the aisle, 'less Aaron's pullin' our leg."

Holding up his hand to forestall the coming inquisition, Rossi drew in a deep breath as he looked from brother to brother. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes, I've been married before. Like Aaron so politely informed you, three times before to be exact."

His jaw tightening, Ray asked, his once jovial voice hardening by the word, "And you di-vorced all them women? You left 'em high and dry?"

"I divorced them, but trust me, Ray," Dave said, shaking his head at the thought, "Every single one of them left the marriage far better than they came into it. I seem to have the unusual talent of having chosen three of the most vindictive witches to live on the East Coast." He added, quickly, "Until Lizzie, that is."

"Lizzie ain't gonna let you unhitch your wagon from her cart once you tie the knot, ya know," Ray said with a low whistle. "Fact is, we weren't raised that-a-way. Why you think I never put on one of those fancy rings?"

"Cause you know once it goes on, it never comes off," Tommy replied, shuddering at the thought. "Cain't imagine tyin myself to one mare for all eternity, myself. Not when there's so many pretty fillies grazin' the countryside."

"Amen, Brother," Ray nodded solemnly, his tone reverent.

"Obviously neither one of you have ever met that one special lady yet," Dave snorted, gesturing for the pitcher of lemonade as he settled back against the now finished porch railing.

Huffing out a disbelieving snort, Ray raised an eyebrow as he looked at Aaron. "This comin' from the guy that hit and missed three times before."

"Maybe finding the wrong women helped me know when I finally got the right one," Dave replied sagely as he pulled a deep sip of the sweet, tangy drink, making a mental note to thank Lizzie for the cool lemonade…and the grilling from her brothers.

Aaron nodded as he looked at Ray, grinning, "Trust me, boys, I've never seen Dave act like he does with Lizzie with any other woman, and I lived through the last two wives. Lizzie's got him wrapped around her little finger." Peering at his scowling soon-to-be cousin in-law, he added, knowingly, "Do I need to give them examples? Like a certain escapade at a certain restaurant when a certain redhead had you running after her?"

"For the love of God, man," Dave sputtered, choking on his lemonade as he slammed the glass down on the new railing, the pale liquid splashing over the edge, "are you trying to kill me?"

Reaching over to pound Dave heavily on the back, his whacks a bit more forceful than necessary, Tommy declared, "Sounds like a story I wanna hear. All of it. And make it long, cause if Mama knows we're done with this chore, she'll come up with a baker's dozen more to replace it."

Ten long drawn out minutes later, Dave seriously considered shooting Aaron Hotchner on the spot, the consequences be damned. The fool hadn't left out a single detail as he had given Lizzie's brothers the play by play of that fateful morning when Lana had made her appearance. And if those brothers laughed any louder, they were going to be in octaves that only bats could hear.

Three hours later, found David Rossi peeling off his third shirt of the day. Freaking Georgia and it's damned humidity. All he had to do was walk outside and he felt like he'd gone for an hour in a sauna. Walking into the adjoining tiled bathroom, he quickly started the shower. Stripping the rest of his clothes off, he stepped under the refreshingly cool spray. Quickly soaping his body, he allowed the water to soothe away his various aches. Hell, when was the last time he'd done this manual labor in one day, let alone just a few short hours?

But hell, it had been worth it to see Lizzie's glowing happy face as her mother had enthused over her new railing. He'd made the elder Winstead woman happy, thus ensuring his remaining in his future wife's good graces. Now, at eight o'clock at night, the only sounds he could hear in the still house were the sounds of crickets chirping and katydids singing. The elder Winsteads had opted to go to some social the church was throwing, Granddaddy and Aunt Myrtle in tow, Ray and Hotch had gone to visit the local bar and somewhere on the property Tommy and Lizzie were having a much needed talk. And sweet silence reigned in his life for a blessed few minutes.

Stepping out of the shower, Dave dried his body quickly, wrapping the towel around his waist and padded back into the bedroom only to hear a sharp rap at his door.

"Just a-" Dave began to call out as the door swung open and Lizzie stepped into the room.

"What in the dickens did you say to my big brother, David Rossi?" Lizzie asked bluntly, tiny fists landing against her shapely hips as she glared across the room at the half naked man that was shortly scheduled to become her husband.

"Which one?" he asked carefully, tucking the towel in place as he mentally reviewed the conversation from earlier that night. God only knew what the boys had told Lizzie, and he'd like to know which battle he was fighting before he went to war again.

"Tommy Joe, you addle pated old fool," Lizzie snorted, slamming the door behind her as she stepped fully into the corner bedroom. "That boy's about to nominate you for sainthood or whatever it is you Catholics become when you head on up to heaven."

"I take it that Tommy no longer has a problem with us getting married?" Dave asked, grinning as he realized that he had developed a few allies on his side along the way. God knew he needed the help when it came to her family.

"He wants to know why I haven't married you already! Says you're a fine catch and I should be livin' in high cotton!" Lizzie exclaimed, stomping toward him as her green eyes flashed wildly. Slamming her hand against his bare chest, she demanded, "So start talkin' before I…."

His grin growing wider as he watched her cheeks flush, the high spots of red absolutely beautiful, Dave dropped his hands to her narrow hips as he pulled her flush against him, his kiss silencing any further words she might have been thinking.


	70. Chapter 70

**Author's Note: Please drop a line and let us know what you think! Thanks for reading!!**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Seventy**

"Now, stop that," Lizzie sputtered, tearing her mouth away from his persuasive lips as she slapped a hand against his naked chest. Eyes blazing, she demanded, "I wanna understand how my brother, who up until this evenin' thought I was a bloomin' Jezebel and was spittin' nails that I had disgraced the family name yet again, yellin' hither and yon that I had no business hitchin' my cart to some Yankee's wagon went from all that to bein' your new best friend! You tell me true, David Rossi! Did ya'll find granddaddy's stash of moonshine under the porch? I'm tellin' you right now that he marks that bottle!"

"Honey, I simply explained things real slow and simple," Dave shrugged, keeping his arms around her and her soft body pressed to his, unwilling to give up her beautiful body now that he found it. "Ask Aaron if you don't believe me."

"I can't," Lizzie huffed darkly. "He's done slithered off like a snake in the grass with Ray! Lord knows what trouble my oldest brother'll find tonight," she groaned, rubbing a hand against her aching head.

"Aaron's pretty good at avoiding trouble, Babe. At any rate, he's really, really good at getting people OUT of trouble," Dave replied easily, grinning down into her frustrated face.

"I'm sure he's gotten a lot of experience with YOU," Lizzie snorted, eyeing the man holding her. "Now let me go. You're gettin' me all wet."

"Really?" Dave replied, a lecherous grin filling his face as he tightened his hands around her, his fingers riding casually against her perfect hips. "Sounds to me like we need to do something about that, don't we?"

"Get your mind outtta the gutter, David Rossi!" Lizzie yelped, trying to step backwards but finding herself trapped in his strong embrace.

"Hey, you're the one who came barging in to my bedroom, weren't you?" Dave teased, dropping a kiss to her lips, trailing across to her ear as he gently bit that delicate lobe. Whispering in her ear, he intimated, "And didn't you say we had the house alone?"

"Oh, no, buster!" Lizzie moaned, trying to ignore the sudden tightness in her body as his lips assaulted her once again. "Not in my Mama and Daddy's house! They'd die a thousand deaths if'n they caught us!"

"But they won't," Dave assured her, his fingers starting to slip the buttons of her shirt out of the way. "Remember, we're all alone. It's like they wanted us to have the house to ourselves. You'd hate to disappoint them, wouldn't you?"

"Disappoint...you've lost your fool mind," Lizzie gasped, feeling her betrothed's warm hands part the folds of her shirt, slipping it over hers slim shoulders as his fingertips swept against her back, expertly reaching for the clasp of her bra.

"No, sweetheart, my mind's firmly intact. And entirely concentrated on us continuing our little adventure from the hayloft this afternoon. This time, with no interruptions," he murmured, dipping his head to nibble at the soft skin below her ear. The last few days had taught him a few things about the woman in his arms. And he made it a point to remember her particularly vulnerable spots. And, he'd swiftly found that nibbling her neck often robbed her of coherent thought.

"Ahhhh," Lizzie sighed, tilting her head to grant him better access as his arms tightened around her. But feeling her bra suddenly loosen brought her back to reality with a jerk. "David! We can't," she moaned as he backed her toward the bed, conveniently located behind them. "My parents would kill us both if they knew I was a'standin' in your room with you in nothin' but a towel."

"I can keep a secret better than any man alive," Dave promised darkly, sliding his hands down her shapely sides, cupping her hips gently as he eased her backward. "Besides, I deserve a prize for today, honey. I was the perfect specimen of an attentive fiancée."

"You cold-cocked my brother and gave him a black eye and a butt full of rose thorns," Lizzie retorted, unconsciously leaning into his warmth as a breeze blew in the open window.

"The thorns weren't my fault," Dave laughed, kissing her neck again as his hands slid to the button at the back of her skirt. "You're overdressed, sweetheart."

"Am not," Lizzie mumbled against his lips as he took advantage of her open mouth, kissing her again. "Mmmm," she hummed, wrapping her arms his neck as she felt her skirt slide down her legs. "Dave, we shouldn't," Lizzie whispered as Dave eased her back on the bed.

"I can't think of one good reason why we shouldn't," Dave muttered, trailing kisses down her neck as he slid the bra off her shoulders.

"How bout the little fact that my daddy will cut off your tallywhacker if he catches me in bed with you again. And I'm gonna need that part at some point. I want babies."

"Yeah, you mentioned that before," Dave mumbled against her delicate pale skin as he dropped her bra to the floor. "But since there's not a chance in hell your parents are going to catch us right now, I think that part of my anatomy's safe from the chopping block, babe," he added, easing down on the bed beside her as he trailed kisses across the swell of her perfect breast.

"You don't know that," Lizzie gasped, her head dropping back against the handmade quilt as she felt his lips wrap around the peak of her breast. And when his tongue flicked the tip, she couldn't stop herself from moaning his name aloud, wantonly, "Oh, Dave! What are you doing to me?"

"If you're still talking, I'm obviously not doing it right," he grinned as her hands buried in his hair. Glancing up at her scrunched face, he couldn't help but think that she was stunningly beautiful like this, and she didn't even realize it. "You liked that, huh?"

Nodding, Lizzie tried to pull up, to continue her argument, but when his lips wrapped around her other breast, tugging gently, she could barely remember her name. Here she was, in broad daylight, in the house she had grown up in, commitin' what had to be a sin with a man that wasn't her husband yet!

Rolling to his back on the old wrought iron bed, Dave felt his towel protest the movement as he dragged Lizzie astride him, it's folds having opened as he settled her against him.

"What are you doin'?" Lizzie squeaked, bracing her hands against his broad chest as her chest heaved above him and she felt the most prominent part of his body probe her through her cotton panties.

"Just getting us comfortable," Dave explained pleasantly, staring up at the flushed face looking back at him. "See, I'm cooperative," he explained, sliding his hands up and down her fragile spine as he laid propped against the mound of pillows behind his head. "You can hop up and leave any time you want to this way," he breathed, lifting his head to capture a jiggling breast between his lips.

Feeling his lips take a slow pull at her nipple, Lizzie emitted a shuddery gasp and lifted one hand to bury in his hair as she shifted against him. Biting her lip as his body thrust up against her, she closed her eyes at the deliciously wonderful feeling that small bit of rubbing sent through her body. "You're just determined to drag me to hell with you, aren't you?"

"Maybe I just don't wanna be lonely," Dave whispered, licking his way back to her neck. "And, incidentally, heaven's more the destination that I have in mind, Elizabeth," he breathed against her ear as he moved his hand down her body to stroke the damp material of her panties. "Mmmm, it feels like you're enjoying this, sweetheart," he sighed against her shoulder as his fingers stroked against her.

Wriggling against his fingers, Lizzie moaned. "Not fair," Lizzie squeaked. "You know this is a sin and you're using my weaknesses against me."

"You think something that feels this good could ever be classified as a sin," Dave groaned, unable to remain still as he rubbed himself against her moist underwear, her heat burning him through the cotton.

"That's the definition of sin, you jackass," Lizzie said on a whimper of pleasure. How had it come to this...rubbing against him like a cat in her childhood bed almost as naked as the day she was born?

"Not in my world, babe," Dave assured her, unable to resist the treat lying atop him. Easily sliding her body against him, he muttered, "And I think God'll understand if we want to get to know each other a bit better. After all, we're gonna spend the rest of our lives together."

"Oh sweet Jesus, I'm going to hell with a blasphemer," Lizzie moaned as she felt his fingers slip around the edge of her pink cotton undies. And seconds later, that no longer necessary undergarment took a flying leap across her childhood bedroom, landing precisely on the edge of the curtain rod at the large open window. Her eyes widened almost comically as she yelped, jerking upright, "David Rossi! I'm gonna need those later!"


	71. Chapter 71

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Seventy-One**

"You really won't," Dave grinned as he barely glanced at the light pink undies waving in the slight breeze. His hands slid over her bare bottom, cupping her cheeks as he shifted her against him, groaning at the contact. "Damn, woman, do you have any idea what you do to me?"

But her retort died on her tongue as she suddenly felt his lips surround her breast again, tugging that sensitive tip. Her moan caught in her throat as she felt his hand surround hers, pulling it lower and lower until she felt the heat of his manhood.

Breath catching in her throat as her hand closed around the evidence of his need, his raw groan around her breast startled her. Smoothing her hand over him, Lizzie whispered, "David, you know we can't. Not yet. I know that I'm not exactly pure anymore but I want to do at least one thing right."

Her soft words stilled his seduction momentarily as he lifted his heated gaze to collide with her uncertain eyes. Shifting her off him gently, he turned his naked body to lie over hers in one smooth motion. Cradling a hand underneath her neck, he stared down into those emerald green eyes. "You are still as pure as any virgin out there, Elizabeth. And whether we make love right now or we wait until our wedding night, there's going to be a world of difference between what that bastard did to you in violence and what happens between you and me. You understand that, don't you?"

Swallowing tightly, Lizzie whispered, her lips trembling slightly, "It'll be the same pain though."

Seeing the very real fear glimmering in her eyes, Dave's heart softened. "Do you honestly think I'd ever do anything to hurt you, Elizabeth Grace? That I could do that to you?"

She shook her head immediately, her hair flying against the stack of pillows behind her as she said, softly, "You wouldn't mean to, but I know how it works, Dave. And…that…" she swallowed as she gestured toward Dave's lower body, remembering the size of his manhood as her hands had wrapped around it, "Won't fit. I know it. And that means it's gonna hurt. You can't get a camel through the eye of a needle, Dave!"

"Please, no animal references while I have you naked in my bed," Dave moaned, dropping his forehead to hers.

"I'm serious, you old fool," Lizzie snorted, then caught her breath as she felt his arousal rub against her private place once again, sending a wave of warmth and pleasure through her. Meeting his eyes, she whispered, "It's gonna be too much, I just know it."

Stroking a gentle finger down her cheek, Dave stared into her worried green eyes as he dropped a kiss to her lips. "Sweetheart, when this is done right, our bodies are gonna fit together. And I'm never going to push you to do something you're not ready for or to do something that hurts." Pausing, he waited until he felt her body relax slightly underneath him before he asked, softly, "You remember how I made you feel the other night in your apartment? In your bed?"

Blushing at that memory, of the heated countless time she had spent in his arms, she dropped her eyes as she nodded. "I never felt like that before. Didn't know I could."

"And if I recall, you didn't believe at first that I could make you feel that way at all. In fact, you were convinced that you couldn't feel anything at all. And I proved you wrong, didn't I?" he reminded her softly, tracing the elegant line of her jaw with a gentle finger. Seeing her nod, he smiled. "I promise you that when you and I love each other that way, honey, it won't hurt. I swear, sweetheart, pain will be the last thing on your mind."

"But you'll wait? Til after we've made it right in God's eyes?" Lizzie asked tremulously, pulling her head back to stare into his dark eyes, measuring his every word.

"I'll wait however long it takes for you to be ready, Elizabeth. If that happens on our wedding night, wonderful. If that happens a month from now, so be it. I made you a promise that no one, including myself, would ever force you to do something that you didn't want to do and I meant every word," Dave whispered, dropping his head to press a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth.

Relaxing in his arms, Lizzie shifted underneath him, drawing a hiss from Dave as her soft body rubbed against his. "I liked the way you made me feel before we left to come down here," Lizzie confessed softly, burying her red face against his neck as she spoke.

"And I loved the way you made me feel, too," Dave whispered against her ear, relieved to feel the tiny woman against him wrap her arms around his neck, her soft skin rubbing against his shoulders.

"We could do that again, couldn't we?" Lizzie mumbled against his neck, shivering.

"We'll do as much or as little as you want," Dave assured her, pressing another kiss against her neck, trailing matches kisses along her delicate collarbone as his fingers found the taut tip of her breast. Seconds later, his tongue danced against the other nipple, drawing a gasp.

"How'd you learn to make a girl feel this good?" Lizzie groaned, shimmying underneath him as she tightened her fingers against the pulling cords of his strong shoulders.

Grinning, he lazily flicked her nipple as he said, "Don't ask questions you don't wanna know the answer to, honey." Seeing her mouth open, he decided that now would be the time to give her something else to think about, so he drew her tip completely into his mouth, swirling his tongue.

Any questions she might have had left in her mind suddenly disappeared as she felt herself arch into that amazing feeling. "Oh, David," she whispered, her eyes slamming shut, those simple words seeming so loud in the otherwise quiet room. Feeling him pull away, she let out a disappointed sigh as she swatted at his shoulder. "Do it again!"

"Bossy little thing, aren't you?" Dave chuckled, immediately complying with her demand as he lavished the same attention on the twin globe, grinning victoriously as he trailed a light finger down her taut tummy, sweeping against the light patch of curls just waiting for him at the apex of her legs.

Feeling his fingers walking down her body, Lizzie craned her head against the pillows. Holding her breath as she felt the wicked man she'd decided to link her life to press kisses along her belly, her eyes quickly popped open as she realized where exactly his lips were heading. "David! Don't you dare!"

Laughing softly at her scandalized order, Dave pressed a soft kiss against her molten center. "Oh, I'm going to do more than dare, beautiful," he murmured against a creamy thigh.

Slapping at his broad shoulders as she watched his dark head dip again, any words she might have been about to say were over taken by a low moan as his tongue swept against her slick folds. "D-david," she whispered, her voice shrill to her own ears, "wh-what are you doin' down there?" she asked, clawing at the covers as a spike of white hot pleasure shot through her veins.

"Shhhh," Dave soothed, rubbing her hip with a warm hand as his tongue stroked her again. "You've kissed me before...I'm just returning the favor," he whispered warmly.

"Th-this is NOT a kiss," she denied, shuddering as another wave of pleasure washed over her, her head dropping bonelessly against the pillowcase, her neck no longer able to support her at all.

His voice muffled by her heated skin, he answered, confidently, "Oh, but it's the best kiss of all, Lizzie."

For the life of her, she wasn't sure she could stop him now even if she wanted to. And she was fairly certain that she didn't want to do that! Not when he was making her body shiver like a leaf in a hurricane. Swallowing hard as she felt his tongue hit that special place again, her body seemed to draw tighter and tighter. She moaned as her eyes closed, her fingers reaching for his dark head, "Dave! It's…it's…it's happening again!"

Her words seemed to spur him forward, intent on bringing her to mind-numbing pleasure once again. Doubling his efforts at her broken words, he slid a finger into her silky wetness, feeling her hips buck against that gentle intrusion.

Lizzie honestly couldn't tell the difference where the world began and ended any more. Thrashing her head back against the pillows, she tried to hold on tighter, but she couldn't, not when she felt Dave's finger curl against her most intimate part. Her world literally exploded, the multiple sensations flooding her in wave after wave.

And somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind, Elizabeth Winstead realized, again, that life with this man was never going to be predictable. Never.


	72. Chapter 72

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Seventy-Two**

Hearing Lizzie's soft scream of ecstasy as shudders wracked her, Dave moved slowly up her body, dropping soothing kisses along creamy planes of her flesh until reaching her face. Smiling as she buried her flushed face in the crook of his neck, her breaths coming in short bursts against his skin, he studiously ignored the screams of his own body, begging for release. Smoothing a hand down her graceful back, he held her as she slowly calmed in his arms, realizing, again, that he could spend the rest of his life doing this very thing with this beautiful woman.

Finally raising her head, her curls slid against his chest as she looked at him wide eyed, shaking her head as she groaned, "You've got to quit doin' those things to me!"

Chuckling, Dave smiled unrepentantly. "Not damn likely, Babe. I plan on doing those things to you for many years to come. And, I promise, we haven't even gotten to the best stuff yet," he whispered conspiratorially, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear. Shifting uncomfortably against her soft skin, he grinned tightly, grinding his teeth at the incredible tightness surrounding his entire body.

"You look like you're in pain again," Lizzie worried as she stared into his dark eyes, involuntarily raising a hand to cup his whiskered cheek, her own body still humming in fading pleasure.

"I'm fine, honey," Dave murmured, turning his head to press a gentle kiss against the inside of her palm, the breeze whispering through the open window against their bare skin.

"You're not," Lizzie whispered, drifting a hand down his chest, fingers trailing lightly against his warm skin. Narrowing her eyes as she watched him hiss against her touch, she asked innocently, "Your man parts hurt, don't they?"

"Only in a very good way," Dave replied, resting his forehead against hers as her gentle hand cupped him and her other hand gently pushed him over onto his back. Raising a dark brow as he watched his tiny wonder slither down his body, he murmured, "Lizzie, just exactly what are you up to, honey?"

"You just lie there and wait and see, Mr. Nosy Pants," Lizzie giggled lightly, her body still pleasantly buzzed from that amazing thing Dave had done with his tongue. And if he could make her feel that good, then, by golly, she could at least return the favor, couldn't she?

"Lizzie, you don't have to…." Dave started, pushing up on his elbows as he felt her movements still for a moment, her tussled red head cocked to the side, her tiny fingers loosely wrapping around his heated manhood.

But he no longer had a chance to finish that sentence when he suddenly watched AND felt her amazing tongue flick against his twitching tip. "Oh holy mother of God, Elizabeth!" he hissed, that simple motion almost causing him to completely lose control. Damn, he was a grown man, wasn't he? He could control himself much better than some inexperienced teenager, couldn't he?

Drawing in a deep, happy breath, Lizzie grinned as she felt his hand wrap around her neck, his fingers stroking her hair. Looking up at him, she asked, innocently, "You liked that?"

"I loved that, honey," Dave moaned, feeling her delicate fingers sliding tentatively up and down his thickening shaft, her smoothness hitting all the right spots. "You have no idea."

"Should I do what I did the last time?" she asked, suddenly nervous that she might not have done it right.

"Only if you want to," Dave bit out, trying to gentle his words but finding it harder to maintain any control as he watched her perfect mouth wrap over his tip, drawing him into that moist deliciousness.

Groaning deeply as her mouth slid down him, Dave's eyes slammed closed as he began to mentally recite multiplication tables in his head. Hell, what was three times three again? But it was useless; her sweet mouth was rapidly backing him toward the edge of reason.

Lifting her head momentarily as he moaned again, the sound echoing around her still childhood bedroom, Lizzie lifted clear green eyes to meet his smoldering gaze. "One tiny thing, Dave," she cautioned, sliding her hand up and down his length.

"What's that, baby?" Dave breathed hoarsely, the sensations her hands and mouth were creating almost eliminating his ability to think clearly.

"Don't you dare make a mess of my mama's sheets," she ordered tartly before lowering her head back to him.

Barking out a shout of laughter as her smiling mouth encased him again, the tiny miracle that would shortly become his wife began to slowly rob him of his control again. Long torturous minutes later, Dave was rapidly reaching the end of his leash. "Lizzie," he gasped, burying a hand in her abundant curls, "honey, come up here and kiss me," he ordered roughly.

"Uh uh," Lizzie shook her head, her reply muffled as she let her lips slide against him in torturous circles. "I fell for that last time. I'm stayin' right here."

And a scant moment later, Elizabeth Winstead had her education of a man's body furthered again as Dave's hoarse shout echoed against the walls of her childhood bedroom.

Long minutes later, Dave cuddled his future wife's naked body against him as he dropped a kiss to the back of her shoulder blade and tried to remind himself how to breathe normally. This Southern spitfire never ceased to completely amaze him and she'd merely shown him again that her actions could never be predicted. "You're awfully quiet, Sweetheart," he murmured against her neck, breathing in her fragrant scent. "You know it scares me when you go silent."

"Just thinking," Lizzie murmured, her satiated body still slightly humming. Her eyes closed lazily for a moment as she felt his rough fingers slide along her bare hip, the touch surprisingly gentle.

"Why does that always make me think that you're planning my demise whenever you do that?" Dave quipped, jerking back with a chuckle as her elbow flipped back, making contact with his ribs. "Damn, Lizzie, that hurt."

"Five dollars," she said automatically, stretching slightly, feeling like a cat sprawled out on a winter hearth. "And quit sounding like a Yankee! I told you not to come down to Georgia spoutin' that Northern nonsense."

"Seriously, babe, you do realize that my money's gonna be yours when we get married, don't you?" Dave said with a groan, sliding a knowing hand to the inside of her thigh. "There's no need to keep slapping on these charges considering it's just going to be coming out of your pocket already."

"But then what would be your incentive to clean up that foul mouth of yours?" Lizzie shot back, rolling in his arms, slamming a tiny hand against his chest. She added, firmly, "I'd prefer if our baby's first word would be something that could be repeated in my Mama's presence without her grabbing the kitchen sponge and the bottle of Joy!"

Trying to ignore the warmth spreading through his chest as thoughts of a curly redheaded little girl rolled into his thoughts, he arched a brow as he easily caught her assaulting hand in his, pulling her closer as he said, calmly, "That's the second time tonight you've mentioned our future children. Something you want to talk about, honey?"


	73. Chapter 73

**Author's Note - Had a posting problem earlier. Please readers, make sure you read the previous chapter! Thanks!**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Seventy-Three**

Sinking her teeth into her lower lip, Lizzie debated for scant seconds simply glossing over his seemingly innocent question. But she'd been raised to be completely honest, no matter how hard the truth might be. And for all his blustering, David Rossi was a good man. His actions had proven that to her time and again. And as her granddaddy had always said, a cow might not should give away the milk for free, but the farmer darned well had a right to know what he was a'buyin'.

"Lizzie?" Dave urged softly, raising his head from the pillow as he uneasily watched worry cloud her formerly bright eyes.

"I have to tell you somethin'," Lizzie whispered, convulsively tightening her hand around the quilt underneath her. "And it might change your mind about things."

Watching as she nervously bit her lip again, Dave cupped her cheek, sweeping his thumb against her delicate skin. "I seriously doubt that, Elizabeth."

"It's a-about the i-incident," she stuttered, dipping her head to avoid Dave's eyes, the old feelings of shame bubbling back up to the surface.

Feeling his stomach knot, Dave automatically tightened his arm around her as he assured her, "Nothing you tell me about that is going to change my mind, Lizzie. Not about us and not about my marrying you."

"J-just hear me out, Dave," Lizzie requested quietly, tucking her body closer even as she tried to withdraw her mind. "Okay?"

Seeing how much her words were costing her, Dave nodded. "Okay," he said softly, reaching over her to grab the edge of the aged quilt, tucking it gently around her bare frame.

"A-after what he did to me...there was some damage. The doctors said that there was some scarring that might make it hard for me to conceive. They did what they could...but...they recommended that if I wanted to have a baby that I do it soon. At the time, I wondered how that was ever gonna be possible since any time I got near a man that wasn't family I wanted to run for the hills. But, then you happened...and then we were gettin' married. And then it seemed like it might be possible for me to have the one thing I really wanted after all," Lizzie explained, shifting anxiously in bed beside him, her legs suddenly restless.

"And you're worried about what, honey?" Dave asked, searching her green eyes, the faint setting sun peeking through the window with just enough light to illuminate her worried face.

Swallowing hard, her throat suddenly parched, Lizzie muttered, "Well, first I was worried that you'd be angry if I couldn't have your child. Then, I got scared that you wouldn't want a baby at all. And now, I don't know what to think!"

Tilting her chin as she tried to drop her face away from his, Dave answered softly, "Honey, you've been honest with me, and I'm going to be equally honest with you. There was a time in my life when I seriously considered my desire for a child. But none of my ex-wives were exactly mother material, so I quickly put that thought out of my mind. The older I've gotten, the less I thought about it, considering it was never going to be an option."

Feeling her heart drop at his words, Lizzie swallowed hard as she tried to smile, mentally steeling herself against the pain that slammed against her soul. "That's okay, Dave. We don't have…."

Pressing a finger to her moving lips, Dave said implacably, "I'm not finished yet, Elizabeth. I admit that children weren't exactly at the top of my list of priorities. Until I met you. And if there's ever been a woman that I would consider having a child with, it's you." Seeing the doubt flashing in her eyes, Dave asked, softly, "Do you believe me, honey?"

Nodding slowly, Lizzie whispered into the fading light, "I do. But what if I can't have them? What if my body…"

"If you want a baby, Lizzie, I swear we'll do whatever we have to do to make it happen," Dave assured her, his fingers sliding slowly against her spine. "DC is filled with specialists who know how to work miracles. And if they can't help us, then we'll head to New York or Los Angeles." Dropping a kiss to her surprised lips, he said, confidently, "But it's all about what you want, honey. And I'm never going to pressure you one way or the other, okay?"

Stunned at his solid words, Lizzie whispered, "You'd do all that for me?" She didn't know why she was so surprised. He'd already turned his life upside down for her, but it shocked her nonetheless. No one outside of her father had ever made such sacrifices for her, willingly put her needs above his own.

Sighing, Dave decided he was going to have to get used to reassuring the woman in his arms. And that alone was a new experience. His former wives had all been self-assured, hardened to the world around them. Each lady had been secretive in her own way and it had been years since he'd been with a woman as forthright and honest as his Lizzie. Honestly, he wasn't sure he ever had been exposed to a woman quite so genuine.

Pressing a soft, gentle kiss against her wrinkled forehead, Dave answered, "Lizzie, the morning I asked you to be my wife, you became my first priority. I've made the mistake of putting my job, hell, even my own needs above my wives before. And it cost me. I won't make the same mistakes with you. So, yes, to answer your question. I'll do whatever necessary to ensure that you're happy. If that means doctors and tests, so be it. If it means visiting every adoption agency in the country, we'll do it. One way or another, we'll find a way."

"Why?" Lizzie asked blankly, her body suddenly relaxed completely. "Why would you go to all that trouble for a wife you never wanted in the first place?"

Leaning back against the pillows, Dave slid strong hands against her soft body as he pulled her closer, half sliding her over him like a blanket. "Because I care for you, Lizzie. And I want to see you happy. Yeah, this wasn't our original plan. But I can't say that I'm not happy about us together, because I am. Your dad finding us in bed together might have been one of the best things that ever happened to me."

Rolling her eyes at his words, Lizzie reached out and pulled one of his many chest hairs, grinning as he winced at the sharp pain. "Don't say that too loudly, Dave. I don't think he'd be so forgivin' this time around if he and Mama walked in on us when we're wearing nothin' but our birthday suits! You'd be meetin' the business end of his shotgun faster than you could say Jumpin' Jehosophat!"

Happy at the return of his bright, sassy Lizzie, Rossi popped a quick kiss up to her lips as he said, grinning mischievously, "Your dad might want to invest in a blindfold, babe. I'm not gonna be too thrilled if he walks in on us every morning between now and the wedding."

"Oh, no, David Rossi," Lizzie said with a yelp, jerking upright on top of him, her hands propped against his strong chest. "I'm not sleeping with you. Not in the same bed. Not before we're married. It's not done! My Mama would die a thousand deaths!"

Smiling up into her flashing eyes, Dave quirked a brow heavenward. "Honey, I've slept with you in your bed or mine for the past three nights. So, in the interest of your door staying on its hinges tonight, I'd suggest you leave it unlocked for me."

"Dave, you can't!" Lizzie argued. "I was serious about daddy cuttin' off your business, you know! " she said with a pointed glance down his body. "I'm already worried that I can't carry your baby...I don't wanna have to worry that you can't give me one, too!"

"Nobody's going to have a reason to cut off anything from anyone. We'll set the alarm and I'll be up and gone before anybody wakes up," Dave said easily, sliding a hand around the nape of her neck to lovingly caress the soft skin below her hair.

"You'd better hope you open those wicked eyes of yours before the first rooster crows. Else, there really will be the devil to pay," Lizzie worried, her pursed mouth shifting from side to side.

"Admit it, beautiful," Dave demanded with a grin, gently tickling the delicate skin at the base of her spine. "You want to sleep in my arms just as much as I want you to be in them."

"I'll say no sucha thing," Lizzie snorted, trying to control the smile threatening as she shifted against him.

"Ah, but you're thinking it," Dave said, easing her down beside him again, draping his arm around her waist, cupping her bare rear end and pulling her closer. "And I believe that that Bible of yours that you're always quoting says something about thought being the same as deed, doesn't it?"

"Don't be compoundin' your sins by mangling the holy scriptures, you heathen," Lizzie scolded, her legs easily tangling with his as she muttered, arching her neck as his lips found that special spot that drove her wild, "And quit that! Mama and Daddy'll be home directly!"

Grinning against her skin as he felt her hand bury in his hair, he chided her softly, "Your body's telling me to keep going, babe."

"It lies," she groaned as she collapsed back against the fluffy pillows, his lips trailing a pattern up her throat, sipping at her open lips.

"Just want to kiss my future wife for a while," Dave claimed, slowing his attention as he met her bright green eyes. "But if you want me to stop…." he trailed off, trying to hide his grin as he felt her hand wrap around his arm suddenly.

"Well, if it's just kissin' you had in mind," Lizzie murmured, trying to pull him back when he attempted to roll away. "We might have a few minutes b'fore the church social lets out."

Long kiss-filled minutes later, Lizzie snuggled deeply against his chest, her sighs fluttering against his bare skin as she dozed, her body satiated and relaxed. Stroking a gentle hand over her wild curls, he pressed a slow kiss to her forehead as he whispered, "You're beautiful, Elizabeth Grace. "

And in that moment, lying in her childhood bed in her childhood home, David Rossi slowly realized that he might just be falling in love with Elizabeth Winstead. God help them all.


	74. Chapter 74

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Seventy-Four**

But, if David Rossi had merely theorized about the possibility of falling in love the night before, the Almighty was determined to drive the notion completely home the next morning. It had started off normally enough, or at least as normally as it could, considering Dave was trapped in antebellum home with his loving, if slightly psychotic, future in-laws.

Everyone was in better spirits the next morning as they'd gathered around the large dining room table at the bright hour of seven am to partake in what these people deemed as breakfast. He'd managed to identify the soupy concoction that Lizzie had dumped on his plate as grits. Suppressing a shudder, it was a foregone conclusion that the livermush biscuit was simply a no-go. So, like a good guest, he simply gorged himself on the biscuits and gravy mixture that his stomach seemed to accept, and slid that god-awful livermush crap to the dog underneath the table. Making a mental note to pick up Roscoe a bone later, he silently thanked the dog for his invaluable assistance in pulling of the con of the century.

He even felt well rested. Ever the contrary beauty, Lizzie had put up a token resistance to him sharing her bed last night, choosing to lock her door against him. Unfortunately, she hadn't been aware of his steely determination when it came to being with her and his credit card had been more than adequate to simply pop her flimsy lock. After a minor whispered skirmish, he'd simply given up arguing with the young vixen and thrown her gently into bed. It had taken her exactly thirty seconds to fall asleep, their earlier activities in the evening exhausting her, and he'd quickly followed her into slumber.

And as that first damned rooster had crowed this morning, she'd landed a crushing blow to his manhood as she'd sat straight up in bed hissing a demand for his hasty departure. After regaining his breath and taking a quick peek to assure himself that his family jewels were, in fact, still attached to his body, he'd honored her request, kissing her good morning as she'd shoved him, quite furiously, out her door.

Which brought them to their current location round the breakfast table.

As he listened to the happy chatter between his future wife and her mother, he met James Winstead's eyes at the head of the table. He suspected the elder man knew exactly which bed he'd been sleeping in last night, even if he'd maintained his silence. Ah, well, in less than forty-eight hours, his daughter would be a Rossi. And glancing to the vivacious woman on his right, he realized that feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn't caused by that hideous scrapple she'd forced him to eat, but instead was the anticipation of actually making her his.

Clearing his throat, Dave cast Lizzie a sideways glance as he interrupted her talk with her mother. "Before you two get too far in your plans for the day, you'll need to spare me a couple of hours this morning, Lizzie."

"Why?" Lizzie asked, confused as she met Dave's dark gaze, his arm draped around the back of her chair.

"You're going to need to show me where the courthouse is in this wonderful town of yours. In order to have this wedding at all, you and I need a marriage license," Dave explained, taking another sip of coffee.

Nodding as he speared a fried piece of livermush, James added, "He's right, Squirt. I need to go down there and pay the property taxes on the farm anyway. You can follow me in, Rossi."

"There! See, you don't need me at all, Dave. You and daddy can take care of everything," Lizzie said, waving a hand toward her father as she grinned triumphantly at both men.

"Not unless you'd like to hold our wedding at your local jail, honey. Forgery is a crime in all fifty states. He can't sign your name to the license," Dave reminded her with a wink, dropping his hand to massage her neck for a moment.

Sighing heavily as she frowned in his direction, Lizzie grumbled, "I'm passin' up wedding cake tastin' to sign a piece of paper?"

"If you don't sign the paper, you don't get the cake," Dave chuckled. "Your choice, Babe."

"You're lucky a really want that cake," Lizzie muttered.

"Gee, I feel the love," Dave teased back, pulling another long sip of the chicory-flavored coffee. "I'm beginning to wonder if you're just using me for an excuse to have a wedding and reception."

"It's the South, Mr. Fussy Pants. We love a good party." Patting his hand as she took a sip of orange juice, Lizzie said sweetly, "And besides, people would point and laugh at me if I just threw myself a weddin', Dave. All you have to do is stand and look pretty and do what the preacher tells you to do, remember?"

"Good luck getting him to obey that concept, cousin," Hotch murmured from his place across from Lizzie, trying to hide his smile behind his coffee mug.

"No comments from the peanut gallery," Rossi glared across the table at the man that had started this entire new chapter by introducing him to his vivacious cousin. "Just for that, you can join us on our little trip to your county seat."

"Oh, yes," Lizzie said excitedly, smiling widely at her suddenly frowning cousin. "Maddie Beth Rimmer's working in the clerk's office now, and I'm sure that she'll be as thrilled as a duck in water to know you're back in town! And single!"

Glancing over at his aunt, Hotch said firmly, his eyes pleading for escape, "I've already promised Aunt Anne that I'd help her go through the corner of the attic where Great Grandfather's chest is stored. I can't…."

"Oh, Aaron, that old thing's been up there for fifty years already," Anne Winstead dismissed his excuse easily, waving her veined hand in his direction. "Another few days won't hurt it. No reason at all you can't join the young people on their trip to town."

Coughing into his coffee at his soon to be mother-in-law's use of the word young, Rossi caught his breath as he echoed her words, "Yeah, Hotch. No reason at all."

"There you have it," Lizzie said with finality. "It's settled. We'll all run into town, get this over with, and then get back in time to catch the end of the cake testin'." Reaching over to pull Dave's coffee mug out of his hands, she raised an eyebrow as he tried valiantly to hold on to it.

"Lizzie, honey, I wasn't finished with that," he protested as she scooped his plate up also, moving toward the kitchen sink.

Calling over her shoulder, she said with a lilt in her voice, "You are now! Get the lead out, boys! We've got a marriage license to get! You too, Aaron, Daddy!"

"I've created a monster," Dave muttered, shaking his head as he tried to ignore the smiles of the Winstead family as the men obeyed the tiny little woman's commands.


	75. Chapter 75

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Seventy-Five**

An hour later, Dave found himself parked in front of Hollywood's answer to a perfect Southern courthouse. Set in the middle of a bona fide town square, surrounded by blooming bushes and monuments honoring the loved ones lost in every war since the Redcoats hit the Atlantic Coast, the sand colored brick and marble structure was the largest building in the Piermont downtown.

Stepping out of the SUV, Dave moved to open Lizzie's door, holding her hand as she stepped down. She had chattered non-stop from the moment they had left WhiteStone, literally providing him with a running commentary of every home and street they had passed along the way. If he wasn't mistaken, he now knew the exact location of every childhood friend she had ever had. And all their nicknames. And he had obediently listened and nodded at the appropriate times, knowing that she was including him in her life, giving him that rare insight into the very area that had molded her into the wonderful woman that she was.

The woman that he was going to marry.

Reaching for his sunglasses, he smiled down at her bright, relaxed face as he said, "You ready to get the papers started that will make you officially Mrs. Rossi?"

"Ha! The question is, are you ready for me, Dave?" Lizzie grinned, threading her fingers with his as he allowed her to lead him up the worn concrete steps of the courthouse, following her father and cousin.

"I'll meet ya'll back down here in a few minutes," James said over his shoulder, heading toward another staircase, "Property tax office is on the upper floor."

Watching as her daddy departed, Lizzie smiled at the two remaining men. "Why don't ya'll get started on the forms? I'll pay a visit to the little girl's room and be right out," Lizzie said with a smile.

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing, Lizzie," Aaron warned, casting wary eyes over his shoulder at the glass-fronted entrance to the clerk's office. "If you've called Maddie Beth and set up one of your foolproof plans to get us together, you can just call it off right now."

"Now, when would I have had time to do that?" Lizzie snorted indelicately, propping her hands on her hips as she stared haughtily at her older cousin. "You were there at breakfast just a bit ago when I first found out about this little trek. So don't go ablamin' me 'cause you're too chicken to say howdy to a pretty girl!"

"Thanks a lot, Lizzie," Aaron mumbled as he felt Dave's grin turn his way, stepping to the side as a group of older women pushed their way through the hallway, their chatters drowning out anything else he might have been considering adding.

"You're welcome," the young woman replied cheerfully, patting his shoulder as the blue haired grannies chattered around them. Turning to Dave, she cocked her head as she declared, "Just follow Aaron, Dave. And make sure he doesn't try to go runnin' away like some scaredy cat, okay?"

Nodding solemnly at his soon-to-be wife's dictates, Dave looked at Aaron as he grinned even wider. "Lead the way, man. The sooner I marry her, the sooner I can escape back into the land of a Starbucks on every corner and twenty four hour air conditioning."

Rolling her eyes at the shenanigans of the two men, Lizzie quickly walked toward the ladies room. Minutes later, her business complete and hellos exchanged with over half a dozen old friends and acquaintances, she walked out the swinging door with a bright smile on her face, happy to move to the next phase of her wedding planning. This wasn't exactly how she had once upon a time planned her wedding, she admitted to herself as she stepped down the tiled hallway, but by golly, it was turning out a sight better than she had imagined.

And she found herself hurrying down the hallway, anxious to reach Dave. To reach the man she was going to marry.

But Lizzie's cheerful smile quickly faded to a grimace of shock and dismay as she heard a distressingly familiar voice behind her.

"Well, well, well...the prodigal slut returns," William Bartane, Sr.'s deep voice snickered from behind her, his words bit out with malicious hatred as he frowned darkly. "Back to cause more trouble, Elizabeth? I'd hoped me and my town had seen the last of the teasing Jezebel you've become."

Stumbling back a few steps, Lizzie paled as she watched an older version of her rapist stalk towards her, "M-Mr. Bartane," she choked, trying to even her voice as the man's overwhelming presence seemed to tower over her, blocking out any light that might have been shining. And blocking out her ability to think, the old fears rising rapidly to the surface as she felt herself sinking. Rapidly.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed, bitterness and vile coloring every word, taking another step toward the woman that had ruined his son's life and damn near ruined his political career. "I thought I made it clear the last time I saw you that the best thing you could do for yourself and your family was to simply disappear!"

"I'm…I'm…" Lizzie stuttered helplessly, suddenly felt herself start to spin, the world starting to shift underneath her feet, dizziness overtaking her. Forcing herself to breathe, to remember that she wasn't the same girl that she had been before, she took in a deep breath as she said, her voice faint but holding more gumption than she had first thought possible, "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm here to…"

"To make trouble again, obviously," Bartane barked out angrily, his words ringing through the tall hallways, drawing the unbridled attention of a group of secretaries huddled in a chat in the far corner. He lowered his voice then as he caught the interested glances, his vitriol spewing as he ground out, "You and your lyin', connivin' ways about cost me my office, you little bitch. And I'll be damned if you get the chance to screw with my family again."


	76. Chapter 76

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Seventy-Six**

Stepping out into the busy courthouse hallway, Dave frowned as he looked toward the end of the hallway, his eyes searching for his erstwhile fiancée. Knowing his Lizzie, she had run into an old friend and was tucked into some nook or cranny catching up on old times. Stepping around the corner, he breathed a sigh of relief as he saw her bright red curls, the sunlight streaming through the leaded windows and bouncing off her signature hair. At least she hadn't been too hard to find.

But his frown deepened again as he stepped closer, his eyes easily recognizing the stiff set of her shoulders, the tight way her arms were wrapped over her chest, protecting herself. Something was wrong. It didn't take any special profiling skills to recognize that Lizzie was not enjoying that conversation. And he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he knew exactly who she was talking to.

Stepping up behind her just in time to hear the last words coming out of the obviously angry man's mouth, Dave wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close as he felt her flinch. Smiling tightly, he looked from her pinched, entirely too pale face to the flushed face of the tall man as he said, more evenly than he felt, "Elizabeth, everything okay?"

Nodding as she felt her legs tremble, Lizzie tried to keep her voice even as she whispered, dropping her eyes to the ground, "It's fine Dave. Let's just leave, okay?"

"As soon as I get your signature on that marriage license, we'll do just that, sweetheart," Dave promised her, frowning as he noticed her unwillingness to meet his eyes.

"Marriage license?" the mayor snorted, crossing his arms over his barrel chest. His eyes raking over Lizzie's huddled form, he barked out a laugh as he remarked snidely, "So you finally trapped you one, huh, girl? Gonna ruin another life?"

"Pardon?" Dave asked, narrowing his eyes as he stepped in front of Lizzie, his hands closing into tight fists as he heard her gasping breath. "I don't believe we've met. I'm David Rossi. Lizzie's fiancée. You are?" Dave spat, already knowing the answer before he even asked the question.

"William Bartane. Mayor of Piermont," William ground out, his shoulders stiffening as he eyed the man in front of him. "And you must be the poor fool this little tramp suckered into marrying. My condolences," he bit out, each word dripping with acid.

Flushing angrily, Dave turned to look at Lizzie's pale face. "Elizabeth, go into the office and wait for me, honey. I'll take care of this."

"No," Lizzie whispered, shaking her curly head, swallowing hard as she tried to stop her hands from shaking. "You'll only make it worse, David."

"Now, how could he do that?" William chuckled, grinning maliciously as he honed in on the smaller woman, a lion attempting to attack a gazelle. "Afraid I'll tell him the real story, dear? Like how you tempted and teased my boy into a frenzy. Then, cried rape when you got just exactly what you asked for!"

Feeling Dave stiffen in front of her, Lizzie grabbed for his arm quickly, her voice strangled as she urged, "Please, Dave, don't! You don't know what type of man he is!"

"What I know is that the Mayor and I are going to have a conversation, Elizabeth," Dave said implacably, pressing his hand to the soft tiny one on his arm as he tried to turn her stiff body. "Listen to me, honey, and do as I ask."

"I can't leave you…." Lizzie started, only to breathe a broken sigh of relief when she heard her father's booming voice behind her. The same group of secretaries in the corner jerked their busybody heads in their direction at the commotion, looks of great interest on their faces as they tried to eavesdrop in the vaulted hallway.

"What the blue blazes is the hold up, people?" the elder Winstead said, his hand dropping on his daughter's shoulder as he stared over her head at the darkened face of his soon to be son-in-law.

"We were just leaving, weren't we, Dave?" Lizzie said hopefully, her eyes begging her fiancé to listen to her. She couldn't be here a minute longer, and she couldn't allow Dave to stay either.

But he was not to be swayed, his eyes still glued on the flushed-face man who had dared to disparage his Elizabeth. Shaking his head, he squeezed her hand as he pressed it into her father's, saying calmly, "James, take Elizabeth back to the clerk's office. I'll be there in a minute to finish up our business."

His dark, knowing eyes moving from Rossi to the father of the boy that had hurt his daughter, James narrowed his gaze as he said, tightly, "Didn't think you kept office hours any more, Bartane. Heard tell you'd taken to runnin' the county from your Lazyboy."

"The illiterate farmer speaks," Bartane snorted. Narrowing his eyes on Elizabeth, he shook his head. "And here I thought you'd banished your daughter. However did you manage to talk your way back into the family fold, girl?"

"I never did any such thing, you son of a bitch," James hissed, moving in front of his daughter to stand beside Dave, his shoulders squared as he towered over the mayor. "I sent her away because you were makin' her life a livin' hell. Tellin' those lies all over town about her. You were there, William! You saw what he'd done to her! Your boy almost killed my baby...and then, when we finally knew she'd pull through...you made her _wish _she was dead. I sent her away to protect her from _you!_"

"And yet, your little angel never said one word in defense of herself, did she?" William smirked, nodding sideways to a pair of aldermen who were on their way to the county meeting.

"You want to drag out the pictures the law took, William? I'm sure the local paper would love to get a look at them. 'Specially with the election comin' up," James hissed, his face reddening by the moment as he watched the politician start to squirm at that fact.

"Enough!" Dave bit out, glancing over his shoulder as Lizzie grew paler and paler before his eyes, her hand pressed to her cheek as she blinked rapidly. "James, get Lizzie into the clerk's office. The papers are ready for her to sign." Leaning toward the older man, he said softly, for his ears only, "Your daughter needs you. It's my job to handle this now. Go."

Clenching his jaw, James glared one last time at William. "Don't make the mistake of pushin' my family on this, Bartane. We both know that we have the evidence on our side. Stay away from my daughter!" Turning, James slipped his arm around a trembling Lizzie as he said comfortingly, "Come on, LizzieBear. We're done here."

"Dave, please!" Lizzie whispered, reaching out a trembling hand for him as she felt her father's arm turn her again.

Forcing a smile to his lips, Dave winked, squeezing her cold fingers quickly as he tucked her hand into her father's. "Go on, honey. I'll be right there. Don't forget, we've still got wedding cake to taste." Dave waited until the clerk's door had closed behind his future wife and father-in-law before turning back to his current nemesis. Smiling coldly, Dave tilted his head at the self-satisfied man. "As a politician, I'd think someone like you could recognize a tactical error when he stepped into one. But, I'm guessing you're no smarter from your rapist son. The apple never does fall far from the tree, does it?"

Bartane's fists clenched at his sides as he hissed, face reddening, "I don't know who the hell you think you're talking to, boy, coming into my town and acting like you own it, but…."

"Oh, I have a fairly good idea of who I'm talking to," Dave interrupted, his voice deadly but even as he took a step forward. "You're nothing but a two-bit small town politician, and not a good one at that. You've been elected year after year because no one else wants your useless position. You're a big fish in a small pond. You like to bully your way around, using fear and intimidation to get what you want." He added, his jaw clenching as he tilted his head, "And it works for you, doesn't it?

His eyes widening at the insolent interloper, Bartane started, indignantly, "I'll have you know that…"

"I doubt that there's much you could tell me that I don't already know about you, Bartane," Dave said harshly, taking another step forward as he came eye to eye with the older man, Dave's two inches giving him the height advantage. "Including the fact that your mortgage is on the verge of foreclosure and your various business holdings are bordering on insolvency." Seeing the other man's eyes flash at that information, Dave continued, softly, "Don't bother asking how I know. I make it my business to find out about threats to my family. Especially when it concerns my future wife."

"That bitch is nothing but a tramp who'll do to you what she did to my boy. She should have…" Bartane snapped, his fists clenching at his sides.

But he didn't get the chance to finish his diatribe as Dave had him slammed against the paneled wall, his arm pressed against the stout man's neck. "I'm gonna do you a big favor right now and talk real slow so you understand each and every word that I'm going to say. By tomorrow morning, your house will be in foreclosure. You're going to suddenly find your bank unwilling to extend any more lines of credit to you. Your various business interests will fold and if you say so much as one more viciously untrue word about the woman shortly becoming my bride, I want you to think about this. In addition to being a _very_ rich man, I'm also a federal agent. I've put away a good deal of criminals every bit as despicable as your son. I've visited a lot of prisons. And it just so happens that the warden up at the Savannah Pen and I were in the Marines together years ago. As of yesterday, the cushy arrangement you'd made with your son's guards is null and void. Your precious little boy isn't in that secure ward any longer, Bartane. He's in back in general population where he belongs. And if God is shining in his heaven, he's being treated to a small taste of the violence Elizabeth experienced at his hands."

"You can't do that!" Bartane gasped, purpling with rage and lack of oxygen, his eyes almost bulging.

"On the contrary," Dave replied with a grim smile, pressing his arm a bit harder, ignoring the sudden chatter around them. "It's already done. Now, let's talk about all the things that _could_ happen, hmmm? Did you know, on average, five inmates a year are killed in prison fights at the Savannah Pen? Unfortunate deaths, huh? It's so easy, too. Those guards can't be expected to catch everything, can they? They turn their backs for a _second_ and poof! No more filthy rapist of innocent girls! Personally, I call it population control," Dave shrugged easily, almost as if he was discussing the country weather or the next high school ballgame.

"Are you threatening my boy?" William choked, clawing at Dave's arm, his fingers unable to loosen the grip.

"Threatening him? The man that stole my Lizzie's innocence in a haze of violence? The man that might of robbed her of her ability to have my children? The man that terrified her so badly that she still sometimes wakes up shaking? Would I threaten a man like that, William?" Dave said, shoving himself away from Bartane, dusting off his hands as the politician collapsed slightly, his knees buckling as he gasped for breath. "Food for thought, Bartane. You keep your boy, if he lives long enough, and yourself away from my family. Permanently. Or losing your home and business will be the least of your concerns. Happy campaigning," Dave said cordially with a flat smile, turning on his heel and heading toward the clerk's office.

Toward the woman he loved.


	77. Chapter 77

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Seventy-Seven**

"But Daddy," Lizzie hissed for the fifth time in as many minutes, her eyes darting wildly around the small clerk's office, "You have to do something! You can't just leave Dave out there with that..that…animal!" Rounding unsteadily on her heel, she pleaded with her cousin, "Tell him, Aaron! Or better yet, you go get Dave!"

"Lizzie, Dave's a big boy," Hotch replied calmly, reaching out to pat his cousin's shoulder, half holding her straight. "I think you know him well enough now that he's not going to let someone hurt you. Or for that matter, let someone even think of hurting you."

"Listen to Aaron, LizzieBear," her father said gruffly, nodding toward his nephew. "Your man may not be what I'd a-chosen for you, but he's got a good head on his shoulders. And a man that won't protect what's his ain't worth shootin'."

"But Daddy!" Lizzie almost wailed, erratically pacing the small alcove that they were stuffed into, out of the prying eyes of the various clerks and assistants.

"Look, Lizzie, we've not heard any body slams or an explosion yet," Aaron said with a glance toward the door as he kept one eye on his obviously overwrought cousin. "Let's take that as a good sign and…" He stopped in mid sentence as he saw Dave walk through the glass door, heading in their direction. Smiling as he let out a sigh of relief, Aaron stepped to the side as Dave joined their group. "See, Lizzie, he's fine. I'm sure everything turned out well."

His eyes meeting his young fiancée's, Dave said reassuringly with a calm nod, "I told you I'd take care of everything, Lizzie. You don't have to…..hummpfh…"

His words were suddenly lost as she threw her small body at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she buried her head in his chest.

Dropping his arms automatically around her soft trembling body, Dave met Hotch's eyes over Lizzie's bent head. "Hey," he soothed, running a comforting hand down his fiancée's back, burying the other hand in her headful of curls. "Everything's fine, Sweetheart."

"I want to go home," Lizzie begged, her words muffled by his shirt as she tightened her fingers around his neck convulsively. "Please, take me home," she pleaded, her voice a thin, frazzled thread of sound.

"Uncle James and I can collect the license, Dave," Hotch said quietly as James stared worriedly at his youngest child. "We'll get a notary to come out to the house later. But I think, perhaps, it might do Lizzie good to find some fresh air."

Nodding, Dave looked from man to man as his hands soothed her suddenly chilled body. "We'll probably take the scenic route, fellas," Dave warned, knowing Lizzie needed some time to deal with what had happened.

"Take your time," James murmured. "And take care of my girl," he ordered with a meaningful look at Dave.

"She'll be fine," Dave murmured as he gently pulled her hand from his neck, tucking Lizzie to his side and guiding her out the office door and back to the sunshine filled parking lot. Feeling her walk stiffly beside him, he knew she was desperately trying to keep her emotions in check. If there was one thing he'd learned about the woman that had agreed to marry him, it was that in almost all circumstances, she avoided scenes like the plague. And unfortunately, today's fiasco had been unavoidable.

Helping her into the SUV, he noticed her tense posture as she jerked her seatbelt on, clicking it viciously into place. He'd also noticed the way she'd avoided looking at him, her eyes deliberately lowered. Deciding to allow her some time to gather her thoughts, he simply started the vehicle and pulled out onto the main road. After several minutes of silence, he cast her a sidelong glance, noticing her pinched pale face, her fingers wrapped tightly around the seatbelt over her heart.

After what seemed an eternity, he finally heard her first faint words. "I never should have come back here," she whispered threadily, her gaze firmly on the wavering windshield. "I knew better."

Eyebrows knitting together as he navigated a turn, Dave replied carefully. "This is your home, Elizabeth. You've as much right to come back to it as anyone."

Ignoring him, she swallowed tightly as her fingers trembled against the canvas belt. "I should have listened to you. I should have let you marry me in front of that justice of the peace. Or let you drag me off to one of those tacky wedding chapels in Vegas. God, why did I think this was a good idea?" Clenching her hands against her dress, her breath came in shallow pants as she suddenly begged, "Dave, pull over. Pull over now!"

Watching as her pale face turned positively ghostly, Dave did as she asked, jerking the SUV onto the shoulder of the country road as Lizzie stumbled out of the vehicle. Quickly opening his own door, he rounded the side quickly as she bent double, retching violently as she grabbed a small sapling for leverage.

Grabbing her waist from behind to try and help her regain her balance, he cringed as she jerked away from him, her feet stumbling for a moment against the uneven ground.

"Don't touch me!" she ordered shrilly, crossing her arms over her waist as she bent forward, trying to catch her breath.

"Honey, it's just me," Dave said calmly though he remained still and unmoving as she faced away from him, drawing gasping breaths as shivers claimed her thin form.

"He'll retaliate," Lizzie bit out huskily between breaths. "You humiliated him."

"I gave him a small taste of what he deserved," Dave returned in a hard voice, unwilling to sugarcoat anything about that situation, not when she needed assurance more than anything. "And he won't do a damned thing."

Turning, Lizzie shied away from him as he reached an arm out, shaking her head sadly as she muttered, "You're wrong. So, so wrong."

"I'm not," Dave replied implacably. "And I wouldn't change a damn thing I said or did, even if I could. He needed to be put on notice. No one threatens my family and goes unpunished. And for better or worse, your family is my family now."

"It'll be worse. Much, much worse. They don't have souls, those Bartanes," Lizzie whispered, staring blindly into the distance over his shoulder.

And Dave had a feeling she was seeing a hell of a lot more than the herd of cattle standing in the pasture behind him.

"We should leave," Lizzie said softly, suddenly, not meeting his eyes. "Just fly to wherever it is that they do those quickie weddings and get this over with."

"And let him think he won, Elizabeth? Not fucking likely. You wanted to be married in your church, surrounded by your family and friends. If you think I'm going to let some cowardly bully rob you of anything else, you've lost your mind," Dave bit out, watching her normally animated face go almost blank, all emotion draining from her expression.

"It's too much," Lizzie shrugged, staring vacantly beyond him, her words blank and factual. "I can't do this. Any of it."

Feeling his stomach start to drop at those words, Dave carefully chose his words as he asked, softly, tightening his hand against her arm protectively, "What do you mean, any of this?"

"I can't hurt Mama and Daddy like this. Not again." Her tone was dead, her words clipped, oddly accompanied by the sound of mooing cattle in the distance. Her shoulders tightened as she added, woodenly, "I can't drag you into my life. I don't want to do this anymore."


	78. Chapter 78

**_Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone that is reading and reviewing this story. We really appreciate it and love hearing from you. Please continue to let us know what you think!_**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Seventy-Eight**

"I don't recall anyone forcing me to propose to you, Elizabeth," Dave said evenly, taking a step closer as he realized she was on the verge of an emotional break, which had probably been a long time in the making. "And even knowing everything I know now, I'd damn sure make the same choices. You aren't getting rid of me that easily, Elizabeth Grace Winstead."

Her eyes stayed glued in the distance, never once fluttering at his words, and for a moment, he wasn't even certain she had heard his declaration. A faint wind picked up the edges of her curls, flipping them around her face, and he reached out a hand to smooth them back.

"Lizzie, honey, just let me get you home and…" Dave started, only to have his words interrupted as she swatted away his touch.

"I can't go home!" she wailed suddenly, jerking her eyes up to his as she stomped angrily against the dirt and gravel on the side of the road. "This has ruined everything for Mama and Daddy! Don't you see that? Don't you see how they're treated now…now…now that…"

Frowning as he watched her drift away again, Dave stared down into her dull, lifeless eyes as he said, firmly, "What I see is a family that loves you more than life itself. I see a father who is worried sick about his little girl, whose last command to me was to take care of you. Your mother's more concerned for your happiness and future than she is about anything else. And for God's sake, don't get me started on your brothers." Hoping his last comment would at least get a rise of some sort out of this normally spunky woman, he frowned when all he encountered was the same blank look. "None of them are ruined, Lizzie, especially by anything that happened to you. But they're afraid that you feel that you are. But you aren't."

Wrapping her arms around her chest, Lizzie tried to hear his words, tried to let them sink through her jumbled thoughts. But she couldn't believe him. Not anymore. Not after she had come face to face with that evil incarnate again. And that evil could only hurt them both in the long run. Drawing in a deep breath, she forced herself to move, to shuffle by him. She muttered as she reached the open truck door, "Just take me to the house, Dave. Then you need to leave."

Tensing at her last words, Dave eyed her as he stood beside the truck, watching as she fastened her seatbelt. Reaching into his back pocket for his billfold, Dave calmly pulled out a hundred dollar bill. Covering her cold hand, he turned it over and gently placed the bill in it. "Consider that a deposit into our kid's college fund. Now," he said, leaning forward as he tilted her chin, forcing her eyes to him, "listen real close, Babe. I didn't come to the middle of nowhere fucking Georgia to be hassled by three quarters of your damn family to turn around and fucking leave when the going got a little rough. And let me be real fucking clear here. I'll leave this Godforsaken state when I've made you Mrs. David Rossi. Which by my estimation is less the forty-eight hours away. Not a fucking second sooner."

Pausing for a moment, he drew in a deep breath as he continued. "You're wearing my goddamned ring on your finger. That gives me certain rights that I think any man in this family will agree with. And the main one is fucking protecting what belongs to us. And make no mistake about it, Elizabeth, you were meant for me. God must have a really sick sense of humor, because, somehow he made me fall in fucking love again. With you! And believe me, of all the fucking women in the world, I never expected for a tiny little Southern belle to bring me to my goddamned knees. But, like I said, God's getting a chuckle at both our expenses. So you get as mad as you fucking want. Rail against God and fate and me 'til you run out of damn breath, for all I care. But understand this, come Saturday, you will stand in front of God and our family and say I do, damn it!"

Dave watched as a brilliant flush climbed Lizzie's cheeks as she dropped her narrowed gaze from him to the crisp bill in her hand. "Well, say something, damn it!" he bit out, clenching his hands at his sides.

Glaring at him, Lizzie hissed, "You owe me twenty more dollars!!"

"What the fuc…" Dave snapped, his eyes narrowing.

"You want to make it thirty?" Lizzie glared at him, mindlessly tucking the crisp bill in the pocket of her skirt.

"Dammit, Elizabeth, you and your goddamned extortionist tactics are gonna drive me to my grave!" Rossi yelled, shaking his head in frustration.

"It's not extortion, thank you very much," Lizzie said primly, her hands folded in her lap as she sat sideways in the leather seat. "It's inflation. Don't you watch the news? The economy's suffering, and you're going to suffer right along with it if you keep using words that would make a nun blush!" She added, as an afterthought, "And you owe me another ten now."

"Not the nuns I know," Rossi muttered, his jaw tightening. "For the love of God, Elizabeth, would you just focus on what I said rather than your one-woman crusade against my language choices?"

"Don't bring God into this discussion, Dave," she replied immediately with a pious shake of her red curls. "And note I didn't charge you for all those times you broke the third commandment and took the name of the Lord in vain. Those were freebies."

"Gee, thanks," Rossi snorted sarcastically as he rolled his eyes, dropping his hands to either side of her, framing her body against the seat as he stared into her now-flashing green eyes. "Listen to me, Elizabeth Grace Winstead. I'm not about to give you up, no matter how insane you make me. Do you hear me?"

Ignoring him completely, her mind unable to think about those words he had thrown at her seconds earlier, Lizzie slammed her hand against his chest as she pushed him away, reaching for her seatbelt.

Watching in amazement as her tiny body started to shimmy over the molded console, Dave reached out and hauled her back, dropping her stiffly into the leather seat as he exclaimed, "What the hell do you think you're doing now?"

Pursing her lips, Lizzie crossed her arms over her chest as she declared, sharply, "You were so all-fired intent on yappin' rather than drivin'. Figured I could get myself home without your help. Been driving a stick since I was four and on the tractor. This vehicle can't be much worse."

Biting back another curse, Dave reached out and popped her seatbelt into place, pulling it tightly as he snapped, "For the love of God, just sit there and don't move. I'll take you home if you insist, but let's get one thing straight, woman. I'm not leaving, and we are going to talk. Got it?"

Watching as she jerked her head to the side, refusing to look at him, Dave let out a pained sigh as he slammed her door and stalked to the driver's side, half expecting her to have locked him out in the process. Sliding behind the driver's seat, he started the ignition and threw the SUV in gear, peeling the tires and throwing gravel like he hadn't done since he was seventeen years old. And for the next silent, frustrated fifteen miles, he prayed that he could make it through the remainder of the week without throttling his soon to be wife that he'd only just realized he loved beyond reason.


	79. Chapter 79

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Seventy-Nine**

Standing on the newly repaired front porch, Hotch watched with widening eyes as the black SUV barreled down his uncle's driveway, leaving a trail of dust in its wake. Seconds later, when the vehicle slammed into place, he held his tongue as his young cousin stomped up the stone pathway, followed closely by an obviously agitated David Rossi.

"Seems that Rossi might have bit off more'n he could chew when it came to my baby girl," James said casually from his place on the front porch swing. Biting back a grin, James rose and followed his daughter as she blew into the house, unwilling to miss what he was sure was gonna be a beauty of a fireworks show. He knew his little girl well, and she took after her mother….in more than one way.

Not sparing Hotch a glance as he followed Elizabeth into the house, Dave almost laughed as he heard Elizabeth announce primly to her mother, "Mama, Daddy owes you five dollars for that word that popped out of his mouth at the courthouse! And the boys," she said, jabbing an accusing finger at her collectively clueless brothers, "each owe you twenty for those ugly words on the porch yesterday. Pony up, Boys!" she exploded, glaring her brothers into submission before stomping up the stairs.

Dave stared on in awe as he watched each man in the room fork over the Lizzie-mandated amounts of cash to Anne Winstead without saying a word. Turning toward James, Dave asked, wide-eyed, "You, too?"

"Where do you think Lizzie got it from, Boy?" James remarked with a rueful grin as Anne snatched the money from his hand, tucking it into the convenient pocket on her red and white checked apron. "I been livin' this way for forty-six years and countin'! The wife's got enough money in that lazy day jar of hers to float her through the Second Coming," James grumbled as the bathroom door slammed distantly and the sound of a window falling shut echoed in the kitchen. Sighing heavily, James groaned, "There goes another window pane I'm gonna have to fix."

"Saints alive," Myrtle whistled from her seat in the corner. "That's one riled up filly," she added, lifting her head as she stared at the ceiling above her head, thundering footsteps echoing.

"Nah, Auntie," Ray shook his head gravely, "She done moved right on from riled up into pitchin' a hissy."

"God help us all if it escalates into throwin' a conniption fit," Hotch murmured, leaning against the counter as he reached for a shiny red apple.

"I beg you people," Dave groaned, dropping his head into his hands as he threw his large body into a kitchen chair. "Talk English to me. I'm gonna need all the help I can get and I really wanna understand the advice."

Taking pity on his teammate and soon to be family member, Hotch propped up in the chair beside him as he said, holding up one finger. "Let me put it in a concept that is closer to our way of thinking. Think of it in comparison to the terror levels, Dave. Believe it or not, it follows the same system."

"Huh?" Dave asked dumbly, wondering if the past twenty four hours in Dixie had managed to do what fifty years in the perfectly respectable North and marriage to three of the most conniving women on the face of the planet hadn't been able to accomplish. In short, completely rob him of his sanity in one fell swoop.

"First there's "right as rain,"" Hotch explained, "That's like a code green. Everything is fine and flowing along nicely. Then, like Auntie said, it starts with being "riled up," Hotch said helpfully, waving his finger for emphasis. "That's a code yellow. Things aren't perfect, but there's no cause to bring out the National Guard or the Calvary."

"Yet," Ray added darkly, grabbing a fresh-baked cookie from his mother's counter as he propped up against the Formica surface, munching morosely as he shifted his eyes toward the stairs, wondering idly if he should cut his losses and make a hasty retreat now.

"Yet, being the operative word. Like the terror threats, if they're not dealt with, they escalate. So do Lizzie's moods. After riled up comes what we call "pitchin' a hissy fit,"" Hotch explained, holding up two fingers.

"Which I'm assuming is a Code Orange," Rossi sighed, dropping his neck back against the high back of the wooden rail chair, trying to relax muscles that refused to cooperate.

"He's a quick learner, ain't he?" Tommy grinned, stuffing a handful of cookies in his pocket as he twirled a chair, dropping down into it backwards.

"Gonna have to be if he's a-plannin' to keep ahead of my little girlie," James said with a grin, jerking his eyes up to the ceiling as he heard another loud crash, the plate on the counter shaking slightly at the vibration.

"And finally," Hotch said, completing his lesson with the flourish it deserved, "Is the "throwin' a conniption fit". Which, since you've been paying attention, you'll see relates to a Code Red."

"Which means the world has come to an end and it's time to run for cover," Ray said knowingly, throwing a cookie toward Hotch, who caught it mid-air, replacing his apple with the much sweeter treat.

"Now boys," Anne Winstead said chidingly from the kitchen sink, her hands now deep in white suds, "Ya'll leave your sister alone. She's just trying to work out some of her thoughts like she always does. I'm sure if we all just let her have her moment, she'll be fine."

Leaning toward Dave, Ray shook his head as he whispered loudly, "The last moment we let her have, well, let just say it had me, Tommy and Daddy peein' out behind the barn for a whole afternoon and half the night."

"That'll be enough of that coarse talk at my dinin' room table," Anne ordered over her shoulder, drying her hands on a bright dishtowel as she rooted in her kitchen drawer.

Pushing back from the table, the legs of his chair scraping against the polished floor, Dave shook his head. "Well, I don't relish the thought of visiting nature to take care of business. Mrs. Winstead, I'll just apologize in advance for any damage I cause to your bathroom door, but I'll be happy to replace it."

"Won't be the first time," Tommy chuckled, pulling a cookie out to replace the one he had just demolished.

"It's LizzieBear's favorite hidin' spot," Ray said with sympathy, echoing his brother's sentiment.

"So I've come to realize," Dave grunted, rising from his chair.

Taking the Phillip's head screwdriver Annie had ferreted from the drawer from his wife's fingers, James passed it to Dave. "You'll be needin' this. And mind that bottom hinge. It's a stiff'un."

"Thanks," Dave muttered appreciatively, accepting the tool. "And, again, I'll try and be careful, Mrs. Winstead."

"I've already told you once to call me Mama," Anne chided, elbowing her husband in the ribs as she smiled sweetly as Lizzie's intended.

"And Daddy," James grunted grudgingly, rubbing his now tender side.

"Did hell freeze while I weren't lookin'?" Granddaddy bellowed, walking into the room.

"Sit down, Pa," James sighed, "We'll fill you in." Looking at Dave, James shook his head at the other man. "Good luck up there." Lifting his eyes to the ceiling as another bang reverberated around the kitchen. "You're gonna need it. Cuz, this here," he said, pointing at the ceiling, "is a full-fledged Code Red Conniption Fit."


	80. Chapter 80

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Eighty**

A short minute later, David Rossi once again found himself on the wrong side of one of Elizabeth Winstead's bathroom doors. Refusing to dwell on the fact that this was beginning to become a less than thrilling habit, he took a deep breath then knocked once. "Lizzie? You in there?"

Not really expecting an answer, and getting exactly what he expected, he waited another moment in the quiet hallway, then called out again, "Lizzie? Last chance. Let me in, honey. I just want to talk."

His answer was a loud boom as something violently hit the back of the door, jarring the wood. Frowning at the old fashioned paneled door, Dave muttered, "I guess that was Southern for come on in. I'm really going to have to get a translation dictionary."

Having already checked to see if she had locked both doors, which she had, he prepared to once again find a way to reach the reluctant woman. Pulling the screwdriver out of his pocket, Rossi made quick work of the hinges, working an extra second on the lower one as his almost father-in-law had recommended. Seconds later, he eased the heavy wood from the opening, propping it against the paneled hallway. Then he stepped into the bath just in time to see the flowered shower curtain slap shut with a snap.

Sighing, Dave said calmly, dropping the screw driver on the vanity, "Lizzie, I know you're in there." Tripping over a heavy shampoo bottle as he moved toward the bath, he added, adamantly, "Don't make me come in there with you. You didn't like it the last time I made that suggestion."

"You wouldn't dare," Lizzie's voice snapped around the pulled plastic, the words echoing slightly in the small enclosure. "My daddy's right downstairs, and he'd chop your thing off if you so much as…"

"Your father's the one who gave me the screwdriver, Lizzie, and told me where to find you," Dave interrupted, his fingers on the edge of the curtain.

Jerking open the shower curtain, the rings flying screaming across the rod, Lizzie glared up at him as she declared, darkly, "Blasted men. You've got them all on your side now, don't you, Yankee?"

"We have a common interest," Dave retorted, dropping his hands to his hips as he stared down at her huddled form. "You!!"

"Well, aren't you just as special as one of Aunt Myrtle's little green men," Lizzie said sassily, her green eyes flashing. "Daddy don't lend his Craftsman out to just anybody. Congratulations, you just made my father's short list."

"I won't tell you, then, that he told me I could call him Daddy," Dave said, fighting a grin as he noted that if nothing else, he'd helped her regain some color to her cheeks.

"He did not!" Lizzie gasped, eyes widening.

"Did so," Dave replied easily, then added, smugly, "I'm fitting right in here."

"Granddaddy still hates you," Lizzie countered, crossing her arms over her chest with a defiant glare. "HE'LL take my side!"

Rolling his eyes, Dave reached across the small room, releasing the lock into his bedroom. "I guess we're doing this the hard way," he said, more to himself than to her as he bent forward, lifting her struggling body into his arms.

"You just put me right back down, Mister!" Lizzie said angrily, slapping Dave's shoulders as he ignored her words. "I mean it, Dave. I'll scream. You know I will!"

"News flash, Babe! You're already screaming!" Dave countered, kicking the bathroom door shut as he strode toward the bed, dropping her lightly on the firm mattress. Blocking her as she scrambled over the side, Dave shook his head. "Uh uh. We're not leaving this room until we talk."

"We are NOT talkin' in the bedroom with the door closed in Mama and Daddy's house!" Lizzie argued.

"I assure you that they are both firmly standing on my side, Elizabeth. Right along with both your brothers, your cousin, and your crazy as a bat aunt."

"Noticed you didn't mention granddaddy in there," Lizzie snorted, sitting stiffly against the headboard of the bed as she mentally measured the distance between the bed and door.

"He'll come around," Dave shrugged, never taking his eyes of the little minx. "I just haven't had enough time to work my magic."

"I think you've worked enough of your so-called magic for one morning, don't you? You helped play a big hand in makin' me and my humiliation the talk of the town once more!"

"No, what I did was put an end to that bastard's reign of terror," Dave countered, easing down on the bed on the edge of the bed, careful to keep his distance. Her ability to strike with hand or foot was still well-ingrained in his memory. "His days of humiliating you are over."

"Ha!" Lizzie muttered, reaching for one of the crocheted pillows scattered on the bed. "You don't think Daddy and the boys have already tried your so-called brand of intimidation? It don't hold water any better than a rusty bucket pulling up from a dry well!"

"I have a feeling that Bartane got the picture this time, Lizzie," Dave said confidently, frowning as he watched her wince at the use of the older man's name. "Nothing against your father and brothers, but I think my ammunition might have carried a bit more weight." Seeing her mouth open, he raised a hand before she could get the first word out. "I don't really want to argue you with about Bartane, Lizzie. I'm a bit more interested in talking about your hasty decision to call off our wedding."

"Well, I don't," Lizzie snapped, stuffing another pillow beside her, her arsenal growing larger by the second. "I said what I meant and I meant what I said. If you'd been a listening, we wouldn't be rehashing this nonsense."

"It's not nonsense when you tell me you want me to leave," Dave said shortly, watching her lips tighten by the moment, the sunlight bouncing off her pinched face and illuminating every line. "And considering that I have no intentions of leaving, I think now's as good a time as any to talk."

Shaking her head, Lizzie gripped the edge of a small pillow as she snorted, "I told you I ain't puttin' my family through this again, you hear me? It's enough that they had to live through it to begin with. Now the whole town's gonna know you were fightin' with the Mayor in front of God and everybody, all because of me, and that's all anybody's gonna talk bout for months to come! Months!"

"What they're going to talk about, honey, is the fact that the Mayor's about to find out how it feels to have the rug jerked out from under him and not be the mayor anymore" Dave said tightly, hearing the worry in her voice as she fought for control.

Looking at him blankly, Lizzie asked, "What do you mean, not be the Mayor? He owns this town, Dave! That's what happened before. Everybody's dead scared of him and what he'll do to them if he's crossed! You just don't…"

"Lizzie, the only thing a bully understands is someone with a bigger stick," Dave said firmly, reaching out to rub his hand on her ankle. "And I happen to have more money than him, more power than him, and a hell of a lot more influence with people that know how to make him disappear. And if that man or his fucking son dares to come within a hundred miles of you ever again, I'll kill him with my bare hands. And no jury in the land will convict me."


	81. Chapter 81

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Eighty-One**

"Stop! Just stop!" Lizzie demanded shrilly, clenching her fingers into the downy softness of the homemade pillow. "Do you have any idea what it cost my family the last time we decided to go up against the all-powerful Bartanes?" Frowning deeply as she closed her eyes, Lizzie shook her head. "Mama and Daddy lost lifelong friends over this mess, Dave. People that had known me since I was a babe in arms. So-called friends who had been with us through thick and thin. Words were said that can't ever get taken back!"

"Your family supported you, Elizabeth. That's what they were supposed to do, baby," Dave said softly, wondering how he was ever going to get this amazing woman to realize how important she was…to all of them.

Licking her lips, trying to find some moisture in her dry mouth, Lizzie turned to stare blankly out the bedroom window. "Do you know the first thing I remember after I opened my eyes in that hospital bed, Dave? William Bartane was standing at the end of my bed, tryin' desperately to buy Daddy off. And when Daddy said no...that no amount of money could buy back my innocence or my health...that man laughed. Said if Daddy insisted on doin' things the hard way, he'd live his life in pursuit of makin' us _all _miserable. And he did," Lizzie whispered woefully, tightening her arms around the protective pillows. Inhaling shakily, she shook her head again as the words flowed woodenly. "He didn't even go to jail for what he actually did to me, you know. They sent him down the river for somethin' called aggravated assault. Gettin' him for the other meant I'd have to testify." Laughing bitterly, Lizzie wiped her watering eyes, silently cursing her tears. "I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror, let alone get on a witness stand and tell people about what he'd done to me."

"And you'll never have to do that, honey," Rossi said softly, his fingers rubbing slow circles against her narrow ankle as he barely held in his anger. In all of his fifty some years, he was almost certain he had never been as furious as he was now. "I've made sure of it. The Bartane boy'll be spending more time in prison than he first thought."

"How's that possible, Dave? I was there. I know what happened, and he's due to get out in just a few months!" Lizzie exclaimed harshly, the scream pulling out of her throat as her body starting to shake at the thought of that animal ever being within her sight again.

Sliding next to her, Dave carefully pulled her closer, letting out a sigh of relief when she didn't pull away. Her shivers wracked through her tiny body, and he tightened his arms a bit more as she stiffened again, her legs tensing against his. Calmly, he assured her, "No, he's not, Lizzie. There's been a change in his sentencing. It's done and you don't have to worry."

His words seemed to seep through the worry and fear that had wrapped around her like a wall of grey clouds. Slowly raising her head to stare into his dark eyes, Lizzie whispered, swallowing hard, "But how? What did you do, Dave?"

"I told you that I would take care of you, Lizzie, and I meant it," Dave said evasively, stroking her back as she began to relax against him. Pressing a kiss into her abundant curls, he added, "And your father has nothing to worry about with the senior Bartane. It's already a done deal."

"Doesn't make the feelings go away," Lizzie muttered, letting her head drop against his shoulder as she turned against him, her fingers pressing hesitantly against his shirt. "Still feel like a spider weaving a web in a tornado."

Dave felt the base of his skull begin to throb as he struggled to decipher her meaning. Simply surrendering to the fact that he might never be able to correctly interpret southernese, he sighed. "Let it go, sweetheart. That part of your life, as ugly as it was, is behind you."

"It's never as far behind as you think it is," Lizzie muttered, idly picking at a loose button on his shirt, her body beginning to relax completely against him. "This trip home only drove that home for me."

Tightening his arms around her as she rested her head on his chest, Dave brushed a tender kiss to her warm temple. "Then the best thing you can do is force yourself to move forward. With a husband and a new life."

Quiet for a few moments as she let her mind roam, trying to place the pieces, Lizzie whispered, "Did you mean what you said?"

"Generally, Elizabeth, I mean _everything_ I say. But which part specifically are you referring to?" Dave asked, his voice rumbling beneath her ear as he fingered one of her curls between his fingers, the silky softness wrapping around his pinky.

"The part where you said you loved me. You know, when you were turnin' the air blue with all them curses," Lizzie muttered reproachfully.

"That's what you remember out of everything I said then?" Dave muttered, grabbing for another ruffled pillow and tucking it behind his neck. "I thought you were too busy counting my indiscretions to hear that."

"I'm smart. I can multitask," Lizzie said waspishly, reaching out to pinch the tender skin on his neck. As he flinched against the tiny injury, she said sternly, "Now quit stalling and act like the man you claim to be. Did you mean it or were you just talking to hear your head roar?"

Wondering if he would ever manage to be one step in front of her, Dave tilted her chin, staring into her clear beautiful eyes. Rubbing his thumb against her cheek, he murmured slowly, "I meant it, Elizabeth. Somewhere along the way, in between all the drama and the hoopla, I realized that I was falling in love with you."


	82. Chapter 82

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Eighty-Two**

"You're not just saying it? You're not just using pretty words to make me feel better?" Lizzie whispered, feeling her heart pounding in her chest as she stared up at him. A faint breeze floated through the open window just then, bathing them both with the warm summer air and the smell of fresh flowers.

"I told you that I'd never lie to you, Lizzie, and this is definitely something I'd never lie about," Dave assured her, dropping a light kiss to her pink lips, groaning against her beautiful soft skin.

"Well," Lizzie muttered slowly, her fingers gripping his stitched collar edges as she fought the strange tightness in her chest, "I guess you sounded like you meant it."

"Gee, thanks," Dave said, rolling his eyes as he pulled her closer, tucking her against his side as he settled them both against the pillows.

"Well, excuse me, for bein' unclear. You were in the midst of cussin' me out, Dave," Lizzie sniffed, kicking her bare foot lightly against his shin.

"Just tryin' to drive my point home, Lizzie," Dave murmured, dropping his chin into her soft hair. "You can be a little obstinate when I'm not letting you have your way."

"I am not," Lizzie retorted, smoothing a hand over his chest. Silent for a beat, she whispered reluctantly, "I'm sorry. I was a little overwrought."

"Nobody could ever blame you for that, Babe," Dave said softly, smoothing a hand up and down her arm, the warmth of their skins merging together. "I wasn't exactly the picture of peace and tranquility myself," he admitted, replaying his words to her standing outside the SUV. "I don't usually put the words fucking and love inside of the same sentence."

"It did occur to me that as an author, you could have made a little more eloquent of a declaration," Lizzie said, hiding a smile in his shirt, drawing in the deep scent that was uniquely him.

"You want eloquent, huh?" Dave grunted, burying a hand in her curls and tilting her head up to his as he stared down into sparkling eyes, finding himself almost drowning in their depths.

"I wouldn't mind your attempt," Lizzie replied, propping her chin on his broad chest as she met his eyes. "Although, I've read some of those books of yours...you do tend to ramble on at certain points."

"My editor'll be thrilled to know my future wife has a few suggestions about his skills," Dave muttered, sliding his hands to cup her soft cheeks.

"I'm still waiting down here for your big declaration," Lizzie reminded him, her eyes trained on his, rubbing her cheeks against his strong fingers. "You gonna try to redeem yourself or just sit up there and grumble like a big ole bear?"

Sighing as he felt her tiny body shift against him , Dave shook his head. "You really know how to set a romantic mood, honey." Seeing her mouth begin to open again, he pressed a quick finger to her lips. "No more comments. You'll ruin the moment."

Nipping his finger lightly, Lizzie said sweetly, "Not me who ruined the first moment with a bunch of swearin' and cursin' that woulda burned the ears off a stalk of corn."

Refusing to even try to decipher that nice little colloquialism, Rossi pressed a soft kiss to the tip of her nose as he whispered, his voice deadly serious, "I never thought I'd fall in love again. As a matter of fact, I'd done my dead level best to make sure it never happened. But then you came along, with your sunshine and light and ability to drive me out of my mind with every other word that came out of your mouth. And before I knew it, I was falling for you." Dropping his hands down her shoulders, he trailed gentle fingers across her back to rest against her hips. "You became important to me. And long before you decided to go off all half-cocked in the middle of DC and fight crime yourself, I knew that I was drawn to you. Seeing you in that hospital bed just made me realize how much I cared for you."

"See, me taking out that mugger was a good thing, wasn't it?" Lizzie quipped hoarsely, shimmying against him as she tried to hold her emotions inside, that tightness in her chest centering around her heart.

"Shh, don't distract me," Dave ordered gently, tightening his hands against her delectable body as he held her gently in place. "Proposing marriage to you wasn't in the plan. I was trying to keep myself from acting on my feelings, telling myself that you were too young, too pure for a jaded fool like me. But then the world shifted under our feet, and I was afraid of losing you, Elizabeth. Just like today. Today, I realized that because of that fu…freaking family, I could have lost you before I'd even found you. And that's when I think I knew I was honestly in love with you."

"You made me cry," Lizzie whispered accusatorily as she felt warm tears sliding down her cheeks, his words shattering through the shield she had ruthlessly built around her soul. Up until this man, she had adamantly refused to allow any one, especially a man like him, to have the unfettered access to her inner self. But somehow, he had penetrated that barrier. No, she thought with a shuddered sigh, she had let him. Because she wanted him…she wanted him to be that special one that she could spend the rest of her life with.

"You're the one that wanted the silver oratory, honey. I was merely obliging the woman who's gonna be my wife in just under thirty-six hours," Dave said, his voice hushed in the still room as he tenderly caught her tears with his thumbs, smoothing the wetness into her cheeks.

Dropping her head against his chest, Lizzie clutched the soft material of his shirt. "I love you, too, you know."

Releasing a relieved breath as her muffled words floated beautifully against his ears, Dave felt the tension slowly seep from his body at her soft confession. "And when did you decide that, Elizabeth?" he asked softly, an unexplained elation rising inside him.


	83. Chapter 83

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Eighty-Three**

"The day you nearly took Erin Strauss' head off for insinuating that I didn't have the sense God gave a goose for reorganizing that antiquated filing system at the office when I first came to work at the BAU. She'd torn a hunk out of me and I was still shaky from everything that had happened down here and I'd run off to the bathroom to pull myself together." Pulling up slightly, she propped her chin on his chest as she let her fingers play with the tiny white buttons on his shirt. "When I came back, you were givin' her the devil. You told her that I was doin' twice the job of some of her senior staffers for a pittance and if she couldn't be any more professional than that, she should crawl back into her cave. You ran her off for me and then you dropped a package of Skittles on my desk."

"She was a bitch and they're your favorite," Dave said with a small smile, the memory of the wicked witch fading quickly as he once again found himself caught up in Elizabeth's beautiful gaze.

"But, I'd never told you that. Then I realized that you'd paid enough attention to me to know what kind of candy would make me happy. And that's when I started fallin' in love with you. And," Lizzie said firmly, raising her head to nail him with a reproving look, "you owe me ten more dollars."

"That's what you're thinking about now? Now that we've just admitted that we love each other?" Dropping his head back against the fluffy pillows, Dave groaned, "Honey, I think you know by now that I'm worth a small fortune, which is gonna be your fortune in less than a day and a half. These five and ten dollar fines of yours…"

"Are the only way I know to make you clean up that potty mouth of yours," Lizzie said sternly, swatting his chest again as she drew in a deep breath. "I told you once, city boy, I don't cotton to our babies talking like a drill sergeant before they hit preschool! And you'll only learn the lesson if you have to fork over the money yourself."

"I have no problem with your little fines, babe," Dave said, trying to hide a grin as he easily hauled her on top of his chest, his body tightening at the way she shimmied against him. "But the amounts keep changing without rhyme or reason. You charge me tens and fives then tens again."

"I'm unpredictable," Lizzie said calmly, letting her hands wrap around his shoulders, her fingers sliding against the short hairs at the base of his neck as she settled against him.

"That's the understatement of the year," Dave muttered, shaking his head. Feeling her touch slow, he looked down into her eyes, finding them cloudy once again. Rubbing a gentle hand up her spine, bunching her shirt with the motion, he asked, "Lizzie? What's on your mind, babe?"

"You really got a lot more than you bargained for...offerin' to marry me," Lizzie whispered slowly, the feeling of joy from earlier fading once again as she tried to place the variety of emotions that were coursing through her mind.

"I'm getting exactly what I need, Elizabeth. You may be the only woman I've ever met that ever could match me step for step," Dave said with a wink, sliding a hand against the warm skin of her back.

"I'm usually very docile...at least with everybody but you," Lizzie shrugged, her fingers idly scratching his neck.

Smiling slowly as he watched another breeze gently wave through her vibrant hair, Dave shook his head. "Docile is overrated. I much prefer what I've got. Most of the time."

"You mean except when I'm not letting you have _your_ way," Lizzie giggled, wriggling against him.

"There is that," Dave admitted with a chuckle, combing his fingers through her hair, smoothing the curls out of her eyes "So, does this mean I'm getting my wife tomorrow?"

"You're sure you really want her? You can't give me back afterward, you know," Lizzie warned, a soft smile playing on the corner of her lips as she felt her heart beat calm again, a feeling of completion flooding through her. "Daddy doesn't do refunds."

"I know I really want you. I'm not gonna want a refund, honey. Now or ever," Dave assured her tenderly, honestly.

"Well, I guess you'd better drag out that prenuptial thingy," Lizzie sighed with a determined nod.

"Screw the prenuptial thingy," Dave muttered, tightening one arm around her waist as his other hand guided her mouth to his. "We're not gonna need it," he whispered determinedly against her lips.

"What?" Lizzie gasped against his mouth, accepting his gentle touch with a soft sigh. Drawing a breath when he finally drew his mouth away from hers, Lizzie frowned. "I don't understand, you were so determined that..."

Most men would have said that he was a fool, he knew. Three times married. And divorced. And no prenuptial agreement? But holding her soft, trusting body against him as she stared down at him with those honest green eyes, he knew he was making the right decision. Elizabeth Winstead was unlike anyone he'd ever married before. Hell, she was unlike anybody he'd ever known before. Real and genuine were the two words that screamed through his mind. Neither one of them would need his damn safeguard. He wasn't ever letting this go. She might cheerfully drive him insane over the course of the upcoming years, but he knew, somehow, she'd never do anything to dishonor their marriage vows. "We won't need it. If you ever wanted out, I'm sure you'd just find a way to kill me with those antics that you're famous for."

"Now that's just like you! Take an incredibly sweet gesture and turn it inside out to the point where I want to smack you with it," Lizzie grumbled, dropping her head back to his chest as she sighed deeply.

"Hey, I'm just speaking the truth, babe," Dave grinned, wondering if it would be possible to spend the rest of his life curled up with this woman, the world be damned. But the loud noise they both heard in the hallway told him differently.

Raising a delicate red eyebrow as she glanced over at the closed doors, Lizzie said with a knowing smile, "If those foot stomps are any indication, I'd say the boys have decided we've had enough time to make nice."

"They can wait," Dave said, matching her smile as he pressed another kiss to her waiting lips, followed by another, then another.

"You don't know the boys nearly as well as you think you do," Lizzie laughed between those drugging kisses, not even flinching as the sound of hammering filtered in to their private sanctuary. "Mama tells 'em to let me be, but they ain't never been that good at followin' orders. And Tommy's got a date tonight, so he's gonna want to use the shower at some point."

Ignoring the sound of voices coming from the other side of the bedroom door, Dave pulled Lizzie closer as he shook his head. "The boys can do what they want. You and I are going to stay right here for as long as you want. There's nothing more important this afternoon than…"

"Oh, no! This afternoon! Mama was working on the cakes! You made me miss all the wedding cake tastings!" Lizzie moaned, pounding her tiny fist against his chest, trying to shift off of him as she declared, loudly, "You and your so-called imitation of a cave man!"

Chuckling as he grabbed her hands, forestalling any future attacks, Dave rolled them, settling his body over hers as he grinned at her surprised face. "Trust me, babe, I can make you forget all the cake in the world."


	84. Chapter 84

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Eighty-Four**

Walking out onto the porch an hour later, Lizzie safely ensconced with her mother in the bedroom upstairs having her wedding dress fitted, Dave took a deep breath of the fragrant warm Southern air. With a little bit of luck and a load of prayers, they just might make it through the rest of this day without any further explosions.

Glancing up from his position in the rocking chair, Granddaddy frowned as his rheumy eyes walked up and down the tall man's body. "You look like hell, Yankee."

"I don't feel much better...it's been a heck of a morning," Dave grunted, shrugging his shoulders.

"Wedding back on?" James asked from his perch in the other rocking chair, his foot prodding the wicker seat into a gentle rocking motion.

"Yeah, thank God," Dave sighed, relaxing slightly at that simple thought.

Rising slowly from his chair, Granddaddy walked the planks of the wooden porch, stomping his foot every foot or so.

"Something wrong?" Dave asked furrowing his eyebrows as he watched the elderly man's movements, the vibrations against the planks bouncing against his feet.

"Just lookin' for my medicine," Granddaddy grumbled as James chuckled.

"Forget where you put it, Pa?" James asked simply, watching his wife's father mutter under his breath.

"I'm old, not senile, Boy," Granddaddy snorted as his foot finally found the hollow sounding plank. Grinning in anticipation, his old legs creaked as he stooped to pull up the loosened wood. "Aha!" he said, pulling out a dusty bottle. Unscrewing the cap, he handed it to Rossi. "Don't usually cotton to sharing my spirits, but you look like you could use it, Yankee. Bottoms up."

Unwilling to insult the elder man, Dave tipped the less than sterling looking bottle to his lips. Sputtering as the fiery liquid slid down his throat, he gasped at the sudden loss of his entire throat lining. "What in the hell _is_ that?" he choked, his hand clutching against his chest.

"Bonafide moonshine guaranteed to put hair on your chest," Granddaddy said proudly, nodding. "It'll cure what ails ya, whippersnapper."

"Or kill you, one," Dave muttered, coughing one last time as he felt the homebrewed liquor settling on his stomach.

"A man could hope," Granddaddy sighed, dropping heavily back into his chair as Dave handed him the bottle back. Giving him a sidelong glance, he continued, "My Jimmy, here," he said, jerking his head toward James, "tells me that you took right good care of our girl this mornin'. Gotta say, you got backbone for a damn Yankee. You might have some southern in you yet, Boy."

"I doubt it," Dave mumbled, the shot of liquor loosening his otherwise tight lips. "My mother's maiden name was Grant. As in, Ulysses Grant," Dave confessed, feeling the scorn rising from the older man once again.

Scrunching his nose, Granddaddy winced at those words, muttering, "A Yankee to the core."

Sighing, Dave lowered his weary body to the top step of the porch, settling into a patch of shade just out of the bright sunlight. "And there went all the goodwill I've built up."

"Might have a little left," Granddaddy shrugged. Looking at James, Granddaddy grunted, "You show him yet?"

Watching his future father-in-law shake his head, Dave asked suspiciously, wondering what else this family had kept hidden, "Show me what?"

Frowning as he reached down to the small basket beside the rocker, James pulled out a black folder, tapping it against his leg. "Pa and I thought you might have the right to know what kind of animal you were defendin' our girl against." Handing Dave the folder, he muttered, warning, "Don't ever let my daughter see that."

Flipping open the folder, Dave caught his breath as a picture of a battered, unconscious Lizzie was his first sight. Scanning quickly through the rest of the pages, Dave's anger built as he read the report detailing the various injuries she'd endured. "Son of a bitch!" he hissed, his shoulders stiffening. "I should have killed that bastard this morning. Spawning a kid that could do something this evil...."

"Didn't show it to ya to make you any madder, Boy," James said softly, casting his eyes back at the closed screen door as he heard a faint voice from inside. "I showed it to you to make you see why my little girl is the way she is. She's suffered. More than any woman should ever have to."

Closing the file, Dave inhaled deeply, once again trying to clear the anger. "I know that," Dave replied honestly. Looking over his shoulder at the older man, he asked sincerely, "You know I'll protect her, right?"

"Got that message loud and clear this morning," James nodded, staring across the distance, his eyes drawn to the looming magnolia tree at the edge of the drive. "They hurt her bad, Rossi," James said softly, eyes never wavering. "Never thought I'd see her smile again."

"Take another hit, son," Granddaddy urged as he watched Dave's pale face tighten, his arthritic arm pushing the dusty bottle insistently into Dave's hands.

Obeying mindlessly, Dave shook his head as he handed the bottle back, the alcohol burning his esophagus, the pain momentarily distracting him from the image of those pictures now burned in his mind. "I'll make sure she keeps smiling, James," Dave promised quietly when he could finally talk again.

Nodding as he kept his eyes trained on the land in front of him, James replied, "I know where you spent last night sleepin', youngster." Seeing Dave open his mouth to reply, he held up a hand, waving away any objections. "Weren't gonna be ugly. I'm just sayin' that you might keep your boots under my baby's bed again tonight. Sure as the moon, her nightmares are gonna rear up again. I can promise that."

"I'll take care of her," Dave nodded, staring out across the yard as braced his arms on his knees and clasped his hands together.

"See that ya do," James nodded wisely. "But if my Annie catches you makin' tracks out of Lizzie's room afore the wedding, yer on your own, City Boy."

Smiling faintly, Dave nodded as he shifted against the unyielding stone steps. "Understood, sir."

"Ah hell, Jimmy," Granddaddy snorted, disgusted with himself as he banged his cane against the planked floor. "The damn Yankee's growin' on me."


	85. Chapter 85

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Eighty-Five**

By the next afternoon, it was official. He was in zoological hell. Or, more specifically, an aviary hell. Now, less than twenty-four hours from his wedding day, it seemed that every southern woman in the town of Piermont, Georgia, was crammed into the great room of his fiancée's mother's house had a bird shoved into her hat. And if he wasn't mistaken, one of those hats had just moved! Was that an actual hummingbird?!

Leaning toward the lovely woman that had chosen to add his last name to hers, Dave whispered against her ear, "Honey, are you sure it's absolutely necessary that I be here? Wedding showers really are for the girls, Babe." Looking quickly toward her father, he asked, convincingly, "And, didn't you tell me there was a loose shingle on the roof last night?"

Nodding quickly as he picked up on his soon to be son in law's line of thinking, James eyes widened as he looked around, surrounded on all sides by chattering, cackling females. Worse than a damn chicken house, he thought morosely to himself. "I did! And one good storm...and well, the whole thing could just blow plum off," he said, looking hopefully at his wife.

Pursing her lips as she sized up both men, obviously reluctant to be included in the festivities, Anne Winstead shook her coiffed head. "The porch, you two. No further," she said, wagging a finger at both of them as she gave them permission to vamoose.

Permission which both of them had no intention of spurning.

"Deal!" James said gratefully, plunging toward his front door in a desperate bid to escape the madness that had become his living room. "You coming?" he asked his soon to be son-in-law over his shoulder.

"Right behind you," Dave muttered, following closely as one of the guests feathered hats slapped him in the face. Pushing through the hoard of obvious bird lovers, Dave tripped out the door, taking a deep breath of amazing fresh air as he did. Glancing suspiciously over his shoulder, he stepped further out on the porch as he gasped, freedom in sight, "They're rabid. Rabid, bird loving gift givers!"

"We escaped. I can't believe they let us escape," James said incredulously, eyeing his front door warily as if he half-expected a flock of crows to swoop out after them.

"I think it might have had something to do with you threatening to use some of those hats for target practice," Dave muttered, glaring at his almost father-in-law.

"Hey!" James yelped, raising a hand in protest, "You saw it move, too!"

"Hush up, the both of ya! You're gonna pull 'em out here if you don't! Then, I'LL have to shoot ya both!" Granddaddy grumbled from his usual place in the weathered rocking chair.

Shaking his head, James muttered as he stepped by the older man, "You didn't see it in there, Pa! Them women done went and lost their fool heads!"

Turning sharply toward the elderly man, Rossi held out his hand, demandingly. "Fork it over, Old Timer! I know you've got it out somewhere!"

"Yeah, Pa, give me a pull, too," James ordered, removing his hat and wiping the sweat from his brow. "I'll tell Mother where you hide it if'n you don't," he threatened as the stubborn man appeared to ignore their frantic requests.

Rolling his eyes, Granddaddy extracted his dusty bottle from inside the confines of his oversized jacket. "Go slow, boys. That's a new batch," the elderly codger warned as both men reached for the bottle with shaking hands.

Taking a quick swig and wincing, Dave eyed the door behind him with narrowed eyes, wondering if he would create a civil war for declaring open season on inappropriate headwear. "How long do you think we've got until they chase us down?"

"Not sure," James shuddered, snatching the bottle from between Dave's fingertips and downing his own quick swallow. Stamping his foot, he shuddered, "Whoooeeee, Pa! What proof is this stuff?"

"You don't wanna know," Granddaddy shook his graying head knowingly. "All that matters to me is if it numbs the pain of a houseful of cackling hens."

Waiting for his almost father-in-law to finish, Dave took the clear Mason jar back from James' hands and took a much healthier sip. Stomping his foot against the wooden plank porch as the homemade liquor hit his stomach, Dave gasped, hoarsely, "Damn, what's in that stuff?"

"Told you to go easy, son," Granddaddy said, shaking his head as he spat a stream of tobacco juice over the porch railing, nailing one of the few remaining roses with precision. "Ain't for the weak-kneed."

Passing the jar back to James, Dave swallowed, trying to determine if his esophagus was still in one piece. Stepping over Granddaddy's feet, Dave moved to sit in the vacant wicker chair, only to jerk up at the last moment as a smack hit him on the arm.

"Can't sit there, City Boy," Granddaddy ordered, waving a flyswatter in his direction. Using the pest control instrument, he pointed toward a strait backed wooden chair to the side. "Sit there. No green men in that'n."

"Huh?" Dave asked, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the old man, wondering for a moment if that swig of shine had destroyed his last remaining brain cells. Either that, or Lizzie's grandfather had truly gone round the bend. Honestly, this area of Dixie was obviously intent on killing him, one way or the other.

"Can't sit in Myrtle's green man's chair," Granddaddy said sternly, waving the flyswatter toward the seemingly empty chair. "Can't squish the alien. It'd give Myrtie a heart attack, and we ain't got time to go traipsin' off to no hospital."

Looking over at James, Dave found the other man to be no help, his focus firmly on the clear jar in his hands. Slowly, he turned to Granddaddy and asked, more calmly than he felt, "Do you see the green men, too?"

"Ain't you listenin' a-tall, boy? I'm old, not senile," Granddaddy muttered, reaching for the jar from his son-in-law's hands. "Ain't gonna risk iratin' the Martians if'n they're there. Figure better safe than sorry. And Myrtie packs a mean punch when she gets riled up."

And in that moment, Dave had a whole new respect for James Winstead. A seemingly honest and loyal man, he'd been forced to live with these people and their insanity for forty-six years. And he was still upright, walking and talking in complete sentences. If ever there was a man on earth he could respect, it would have to be him. The man was a saint if ever there had been one.

Drawn from his thoughts as a red Chevrolet barreled up the gravel driveway, a cloud of smoke and dust trailing in its wake, Dave heard James sigh.

"That'd be the boys. Tommy's drivin'...I can smell the asphalt burnin' on the main road," James muttered under his breath. Waiting until his sons climbed out of the vehicle, James yelled, "Boy, I've tole you time and again to slow that thing down afore you wrap it around a tree!"

"Awe, daddy! I'd just reached my cruisin' altitude," Tommy grinned boyishly, pushing a hand through his hair as he slapped a ball cap firmly in place.

Snorting, James shook his head as he glared toward his youngest. "You're gonna think cruisin' if your mama sees you drivin' like that."

"Told 'im to slow it down, Daddy," Ray grinned as Hotch climbed out of the backseat, unfolding his tall body from the tiny enclosure.

"Where the hell have you been?" Dave snapped at Hotch, glaring in disgust. "The best man does not desert the groom in his time of need!"

"Why do you think we're here now, Dave?" Hotch said, grinning widely as he stepped up to the porch behind his cousins, leaning comfortably against the wooden pillar.

"Yeah, figured you'd had about enough of that hen party by now," Ray added, jerking his head toward a sudden burst of laughter filtering through the front door. "And from the line of cars stretching down the driveway, 'pears that every female from here to Valdosta made an appearance."

"Which is why we're here to save your sorry ass," Tommy grinned, cocking an eyebrow at his soon to be brother-in-law as he leaned gingerly against the once-broken porch railing.


	86. Chapter 86

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Eighty-Six**

"Please, men, you're gonna have to do better than these cryptic comments," Dave ordered them, glaring at the lot equally. "You'll have to forgive me, but I've just been subjected to an inspection of my dubious genealogy, a dissertation on the merits of sponge cake versus something called tea cake, an interrogation on my knowledge of the war heroes of the great South, and extensive comments on my ability or possible inability to provide for Lizzie in the manner to which every woman in that place thinks she should become accustomed. So," Dave paused for a moment, glancing longingly at the clear bottle that James held tightly, "You'll have to forgive me if I'm not exactly able to decipher whatever you three are trying to say!"

"Don't forget the birds," James muttered from the swing, drawing another sip from the bottle, tucking it tightly in the crook of his arm as he caught the gathered group staring at him.

"What birds, Daddy?" Tommy asked, looking up in the clear blue sky. "Not a crow in sight, so…"

"Don't ask," Dave counseled wisely, shuddering at the memory of the floating hats, his throat begging for another drag from that precious bottle.

Raising one black eyebrow as he eyed his most famous team member, Hotch grinned as he said, "Well, your time in bridal shower hell is almost over. I just got a call that the team has landed and should be out here in the next half-hour."

"And as soon as this passel of cackling hens gets their claws into those female teammates of yours, we're gonna pack up and head on out of here," Ray nodded in Dave's direction. Seeing the older man's confused look, he commented, grinning widely, "It's the night before your weddin', man! There's wild oats to be sown!"

Tilting his hat back, Tommy added, throwing a leg over the porch railing as he settled against the post, "And we got just the place for you to sow 'em."

Walking out the back door in time to hear that last comment, a now agitated Elizabeth Winstead automatically shook her head, her curls tumbling down her back. "Absolutely not!" she glared at her brother. Jabbing a finger in Tommy's direction, she hissed, adamantly, "Nobody IN this town has forgotten the last time you threw a bachelor party, Tommy! What were you, Hotch? Half an hour late for your OWN wedding?" Lizzie asked, narrowing her eyes on her grinning cousin.

"Forty-five," Aaron grinned, cocking his head in acknowledgement. "But, who's counting?"

"We ALL were," Lizzie snapped, turning her glare toward Dave. Shaking her head, she continued, "And, YOU!" she growled, dropping her hands to her hips.

"Now, what'd I do?" Dave whined as he stood up, his eyes widening as he wondering how he could have fallen from grace in just the few minutes he had been out of her direct line of sight.

"How old are you again, David? How is it even possible that you have ANY wild oats left?" Lizzie asked incredulously as he reached for her, drawing her closer.

"Uh uh," Dave shook his head at her accusation, wagging a finger in her direction. "I had _nothing_ to do with any of this. I was simply sitting here on this porch where I was given explicit permission from your mother to go, minding my own business. And they," he said, waving a hand at her brothers, "showed up and began plotting my kidnapping. I'm a perfectly innocent man here, honey."

"You haven't been innocent since the day you were born, Dave. That much I feel sure about," Lizzie sniffed, trying to ignore the thrill that slid down her spine as his arm snaked around her waist.

"All right!" Dave ordered over her head. "One of you better start confessing your crime," he growled.

"I plead the fifth," Ray claimed immediately, sprawling on the top step, legs spread out comfortably in the warming sunlight.

"Ain't gonna be confessin' to anything that brings out Mama's wooden spoon," Tommy added, shaking his head as he pulled his hat down low on his forehead.

"It ain't Mama you need to be worryin' about, Tommy Joe," Lizzie warned, leaning back against the strong, solid chest of her almost husband. Turning to Hotch, she narrowed her eyes as she demanded, "Start talking, Aaron Hotchner, before I sic Aunt Myrtie on you. She's been pining for someone to wallop with that swatter of hers, and you'll be fresh meat."

"Girlie's got a point there, boy," Granddaddy piped up, waving the swatter in question in the air. "Myrtie got a swift arm for a crazy loon."

Holding up a hand to stall the conversation, Hotch shook his head as he stepped up onto the porch, escaping the heated rays of the setting sun. "Lizzie, it's nothing to get upset about. We've just made reservations to spend the evening helping Dave celebrate his last wedding. Just a group of guys getting together to enjoy some jokes and a few beers." Smiling reassuringly, he added, "You won't even miss him. Penelope, Prentiss and JJ are on their way here right now, and I'm sure you don't want us underfoot while you're finishing the wedding plans, now do you?"

Narrowing her eyes at her normally sane cousin, Lizzie cocked her head to the side as she said, suspiciously, "Why do I feel like you're sugarcoatin' to get me to agree?" Turning her head slightly to eye Dave as he placed his chin on her shoulder, she asked, "What do you know about any of this?"

"Exactly what I've heard in the last thirty seconds," he replied easily, inhaling deeply as her strawberry scented hair tickled his nose.

Sighing heavily she turned in his embrace, jabbing a pointed nail into his chest, "It's like this, you hear me? No strip clubs and no painted ladies. If I catch one picture with a half-dressed hussy sittin' in your lap, all bets are off." Turning again, she eyed the three men lined up in front of her. "And ya'll," she intoned, a regal hand sweeping out to encompass the assembled group, "are to bring him home, safe, whole and with all the important pieces still intact. Or I swear, I'll snap the hickory branch off the tree FOR mama to whip you with! Ya'll hear me?"

"Got it," Ray nodded dutifully.

"The little green men heard you, Baby Sister," Tommy said with a wicked grin.

"I'll have him returned for the wedding, Lizzie," Hotch agreed.

"Sober, Aaron. I want him sober," Lizzie added, demandingly. "Pastor Allen still has the same rule. He won't marry no drunk bridegroom."

"He'll be sober by the wedding," Aaron nodded solemnly, raising his right hand in a promised vow.

"Or I'll take a hammer to his noggin," James grunted, still clutching the glass bottle in a death grip.

"Trust me, people, I plan on being in full control of my faculties when I marry Lizzie," Dave assured them all, pulling his future bride back against him as he bent down to whisper in her ear, "Not gonna give you a chance to run out on me again, babe."

Elbowing him in the ribs lightly, Lizzie muttered, grudgingly, "You just be watchin' that you don't make your wife promises you don't keep, mister, or Mama's switch'll be the least of your worries!"

"I'm on my best behavior, honey, I promise," Dave assured her, dropping a kiss to her cheek.

"Yeah, and pigs are gonna fly all around the barn anytime now," Tommy snickered, earning him another glare from his sister.

Feeling Lizzie stiffen in his arms, Dave pulled her tighter, hoping to forestall another argument between brother and sister as he said, gesturing toward the long driveway, "If I'm not mistaken, that looks like some more newcomers to this little party."

Glancing down at his watch, Hotch commented, "Could be the team if they made better time than we thought."

Watching as the large SUV pulled up to the front of the drive, bypassing the long line of parked cars, Lizzie grinned widely as she saw the front passenger door open. Laughing excitedly, she pointed, "I'd know that blonde and blue head anywhere! It's Penny!"


	87. Chapter 87

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Eighty-Seven**

An hour later as the new additions settled into their new surroundings, Penelope having oohed and ahhed at every nook and cranny of the antebellum home, Dave gently guided Lizzie into the large pantry off the kitchen.

"What in the dickens are you doin', Dave? We can't just run off and leave Mama to entertain my guests," Lizzie admonished as Dave pulled her into the darkened pantry, the sound of voices loud in the distance. "It's just not done."

"Your guests are fine," Dave groaned, rolling his eyes at the thoughts of the crowded household. "I think Garcia and your mother are colluding to take over the world after they finish with our wedding. Reid's involved in an animated discussion with your Aunt Myrtle regarding the theoretical existence of alien life. Morgan and Tommy have made fast friends. JJ's happy. She and Will found the food, and Ray's keeping Prentiss entertained."

"Yeah, about that...did I hear Emily threaten to pull her gun?" Lizzie asked with furrowed brows, glancing back at the closed door, not quite sure if she should be worried about her friend or her brother in that scenario.

"Only after he made a small statement about women not being allowed to carry guns during that special time of month," Dave shrugged with a grin, sweeping his fingers through her curls as he leaned against a shelf full of glass jars.

"Oh, he didn't," Lizzie groaned, dropping her head against Dave's shoulder, rubbing her forehead against his soft shirt. "I swear, it's gettin' more and more like the Hatfields and McCoys down here, Dave. I don't think the War Between the States caused as much damage as our simple little weddin' is gonna do."

"A few more hours and we're out of here, Babe. Just hang in there," Dave soothed, pressing a soft kiss into her hair.

Sighing, Lizzie gazed up at him. "Well, what'd you drag me in here for anyway?" she asked impatiently, pursing her lips.

"The boys and I are getting ready to leave and I wanted a minute alone with you," Dave replied easily, settling his hands on her hips as he cradled her against him.

"For what?" Lizzie muttered, cringing as she heard her brother's muffled shout and Emily's distinctive voice raise, the walls barely diminishing the shouts.

"This," Dave murmured, framing Lizzie's face as his head dipped to capture her surprised pink lips. Kissing her deeply, he smiled against her mouth as he heard her soft moan and her arms tangled around his neck. Pulling away, he nipped her full lower lip gently. "Rule one...never leave without getting at least one good kiss."

"You made that up," Lizzie replied, laughing lightly as she relaxed completely against him.

"I did," Dave nodded, wrapping his arms around her waist as he tucked her closer, his body demanding her touch, "But somehow, I don't think you mind."

"I'm beginning to realize that this marriage thing's got its good points," Lizzie murmured, her fingers wrapping in his hair. Staring into his dark eyes, she asked, hesitantly, "Is it okay if I kiss you back?"

"Rule number two, honey," Dave said quickly, tightening his arms lest she change her mind, "You never have to ask that question."

Stretching up on her tip toes, Lizzie pressed a soft, hesitant kiss to his lips, then gasped as she felt him haul her up his body, her feet dangling as he captured her mouth completely, his lips overtaking her completely. Wrapping her legs around his waist, her skirt bunched around her waist as she let herself succumb to the amazing feelings kissing him brought to her body. Long seconds later, she leaned her forehead against his as she whispered, "What just happened?"

"You tell me, babe," Dave chuckled against her lips, settling her light weight against him better as he cupped her derriere in his hands, trying to ignore the way her body pressed perfectly against him. The empty glass jars rattled behind them as he shifted against the shelf. "You started it this time."

Glancing down at their bodies, Lizzie slapped at his shoulder suddenly as she yelped, scandalized, "Put me down, David Rossi! If Mama or Daddy came in here and caught us looking like…."

"What we look like, Lizzie," Dave said calmly, easing her down his body but keeping his hands on her waist, "Is a couple who love each other and enjoy showing it. There's nothing to be ashamed about."

Straightening her skirt, Lizzie raised hesitant eyes to his as she said, softly, "You said you loved me again."

"And I plan on saying it for the rest of our lives, honey," Dave promised her, grinning as he heard a particularly loud curse from outside the door. "Get used to it," he whispered against her ear. Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, he pressed a quick kiss to her lips as he murmured, "We probably need to get back out there before they send a search party in after us."

"Do I look okay?" Lizzie asked nervously, trying to smooth the wrinkles out of her skirt, pressing a hand against her mussed curls.

"If by "okay" you mean, well kissed and out of breath, you look positively radiant," Dave chuckled as his hand dropped to her back, reaching for the door.

Meeting an impatient Tommy as they came back into the kitchen, his eyes twinkled as he teased, "Well, there you two lovebirds are...and what a lovely shade of pink lipstick, Rossi! Sissy, you done gave the old man quite the makeover!"

"Leave your sister alone," Dave warned, smacking the back of Tommy's head as they walked past him.

"Ouch," Tommy winced, rubbing his wounded head, muttering, "You bout ready, Dave? Everybody's loaded up."

Nodding, Dave rubbed a hand down Lizzie's arm. "I'll have the cell phone on, honey. You call me if you need me," he murmured, staring down at her as he remembered her nightmares of the previous evening.

Grabbing his hand quickly, Lizzie asked, hesitantly, "You'll be coming home before it gets too late, right?" As much as she hated to admit it, she had grown accustomed to falling asleep wrapped up in his strong arms, and she wasn't looking forward to trying to go to asleep without him. Even the safety of her childhood home couldn't compare to him anymore.

"Oh, come on, LizzieBear," Tommy groaned, rolling his eyes as he pointed at his watch. "Time's a wastin'. We told you we'd have 'im home in time for the weddin'. Seriously, sissy, loosen the apron strings!"

Slapping the dark-haired man upside the back of his head once again, Dave met her bright eyes as he squeezed her hand reassuringly, "I promise I'll be back before you have time to miss me." He added, softly, "And I'll always come home to you, Elizabeth Grace. Always."

"I think I'm gonna puke," her brother moaned, slapping a hand to his forehead. Stomping toward the door, he yelled, "Come on outside when you two lovebirds are finished bein' so sappy."

Laughing weakly at her brother's antics, Lizzie whispered, "Mr. Romantic, he ain't. Mama's 'bout given up hope on that one ever settlin' down."

"Don't worry about your brothers," Dave grinned, wrapping his arm around her shoulders again as they walked toward the back door. "There's hope for him, I'm sure, if the right girl comes along." Winking at her, he added, "I should know. I waited a long time for you, babe."

Smiling tightly, Lizzie nodded, forcing herself to release his hand. "Go on, then. Go have a good time," she said, nodding toward the truck outside.

"I mean it, Elizabeth," Dave said, turning to level her with a serious gaze, "I want you to call me if you need to. We both know you didn't get very much sleep last night," Dave said quietly, watching her face carefully. Her father had been on the money. Barely an hour after she'd drifted off, her screams had echoed off the walls, bringing forth all manner of her worried family.

Luckily, they'd trusted him enough to do the job he'd happily spend the rest of his life doing - taking care of Elizabeth. She'd calmed quickly enough once he'd ejected the last of her well-meaning family from the bedroom, but sleep had eluded them both for quite a few hours afterward. "Promise me you'll call if you get scared, honey, or I'm not going anywhere."

"I'll be fine," Lizzie said softly, lifting on her toes to press a kiss to his whiskered cheek, her lips lingering against his skin.

"Elizabeth," he drawled in a warning voice, his fingers catching her forearm, unwilling to let her ignore his question.

"All right, I promise," Lizzie sighed at the stubborn man. "Now, go on," she said, giving him a small push out the back door toward the waiting men.

"I love you, too, dear," he teased with a wide smile, descending the porch steps. "I'll see you in a few hours."


	88. Chapter 88

**_Author's Note: Just wanted to take a moment and let you all know how much Tonnie and I appreciate each of you that have taken the time to read, review, and/or alert our story. I hope you'll continue to let us know your thoughts. Thank you and as ever, we don't own Criminal Minds._**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Eighty-Eight**

And a few hours later, five and half to be exact, Elizabeth Grace Winstead had to admit that Dave had kept his promise. He was home, safe and sound. Now, sober…that was another matter completely.

Pulling the oversized SUV down the long Winstead family drive, Spencer Reid squinted as he tried to make out the edges of the driveway, the moonlight not offering him much help. Seriously, he thought to himself over the din of loud voices in the vehicle, didn't these people believe in street lights? He was still in a civilized country, wasn't he?

Finally navigating to a stop behind an oversized pickup truck with tires bigger than his kitchen table, Spence let out a sigh of relief as he turned off the ignition. Turning to glare at the group of men scattered over and under the seats, he declared, tiredly, "Okay, people. We're here. Try not to fall getting out this time, okay?"

"Sure, Brainiac," Tommy laughed from the middle seat, trying to open the door only to stare at it in confusion. "Hey!" he yelled, the sound bouncing around the small vehicle, "Who locked my door?"

"Use your brain, you mo-ron," Ray slurred, reaching over his brother to kick at the door, hitting the lock in the process and throwing open the door.

"Well, that's one way of doing it, I guess," Reid mumbled to himself, mentally filing away that tidbit with the rest of the escapades from this evening. If he was fortunate, Lizzie would forget that he had an eidetic memory and never ask him to recount everything he had seen and heard this evening. And if she did, he was going to claim a momentary brain lapse, which would not be far from the truth.

Watching as the boisterous group spilled and stumbled out of the vehicle, Reid quickly counted the assembled crew, knowing that if he didn't return home with the same number he left with that one of those women in that house would make him pay. Although how he had become responsible for such a diverse group of men, he had yet to figure out.

Feeling a heavy arm land across his shoulders, Reid looked over in surprise, staring into the smiling face of Lizzie's older brother. "You ain't so bad for a brainiac, you know that?" Ray said happily, clumsily patting Reid's cheek as he stumbled against a hole in the front lawn.

"I'm glad I meet your approval," Reid replied, shaking his head as he grinned widely, catching Ray's weight as he tilted precariously to the left. Being the designated driver had its benefits, he thought with a mental laugh. Most of all, it meant that you could see your friends and coworkers completely sloshed and get to remind them about it later.

"Shhh!' Hotch said suddenly, causing the entire group of chattering men to stop in their tracks, the moonlight giving them just enough light to see the man's raised hands. "Gotta be quiet, men. Can't wake up Auntie Anne or she'll kill us all!"

"Mama's used to us comin' in at all hours of the night, A-ron," Tommy mumbled, weaving side to side as he tried to find his footing on the uneven grass. "Ain't no different tonight."

Pushing to the front of the group as he shoved past Will LaMontagne muttering something in broken Cajun, Rossi stumbled slightly as he said, solemnly, "Don't stop me now, Hotch. Gotta get to Lizzie. Promised her I'd be home."

Morgan snickered then as he clapped the bridegroom on the back, barely making contact as his hand didn't quite judge the depth correctly. "Big bad Dave Rossi gotta get home to the little woman? Coulda sold tickets to this wedding."

Pressing a hand to his heart, Dave peered into the darkness as he declared, loudly, "I've changed, fellas. Just ask Lizzie." Hiccupping loudly, he added, piously, "I've seen the light!"

And five minutes later, the entire Winstead household was awakened to the completely off key chorus of Hank Williams, Sr., famous gospel hymn, sung in bad four part harmony by six extremely drunk men. And one silent genius stared down at them in clinical dismay, his hands stuffed into his corduroys as he towered over their prone bodies.

Pushing open the screen door, Elizabeth Grace Winstead stepped out onto the front porch of her child hood home, her eyes widening as she stared at the group of men lying flat on the ground of her mother's front yard. Hearing the screen slap open behind her and the front porch light snap on, she turned to see the shocked faces of her mother and father, followed quickly by the sleep-ridden faces of her female teammates.

"Mama," Lizzie asked slowly, pulling her housecoat tighter around her as she stared out at the strange sight in the yard, "Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?"

Pushing past them all, a curler-covered Penelope Garcia stomped to the end of the porch, hands on her hips as she yelled, "Derek Bernard Morgan! Get your shapely ass up off that grass right now before you ruin those jeans!"

"Bernard? Does this mean we can call you Bernie?" Tommy whispered loudly as he pressed his hands against his ears, kicking Morgan's back with his booted foot.

"Five dollars!" rang out immediately from three of the men currently making grass angels, their drunken bodies catching in the clods of recently mowed grass.

"Oh no," Lizzie declared, cinching the belt on her robe as she moved to stand beside her friend. "Penny's got a freebie. She's not the one in trouble right now." Stomping down the steps, she came to rest at the feet of her soon-to-be husband. Who was currently struggling to sit up straight and failing mightily at the effort.

"David Xavier Rossi!" Lizzie exclaimed, hands on her hips. "I hope you have a good excuse for this..this…debauchery!"

"Lizzie!" Dave exclaimed happily, if a bit drunkenly. Finally managing to get his head above his feet, he grinned up goofily at the beautiful angel wavering in front of him, the moonlight bouncing off her red hair. Holding out his arms into the cool night air, he exclaimed, cheerfully, "See, honey? I promised that I'd come back to you!"

"You also promised me that you'd be sober when you did it," Lizzie huffed. "You, sir, are drunk as a skunk!"

"How'd a skunk get drunk?" Dave asked blankly, turning his head toward Aaron.

"Look what ya'll did to him," Lizzie shouted at the drunken men assembled on the ground.

"And what happens to the skunk when he gets drunk?" Dave asked seriously, tugging on Lizzie's robe. "Does his white stripe turn black and blue?"

"No, but, I'm fairly certain you will if you keep pullin' at my robe, you sot!" Lizzie growled, swatting at his roving hands as she attempted to keep her body covered.

"Chere, I see stars," Will declared drunkenly, staring up at the night sky as his feet kicked against the hard earth. "Are there really stars?"

"Yes, Will," JJ said with a long-suffering sigh as she moved to stand beside him, staring down in mixed horror and disbelief at her normally staid fiancée.

"Pretty," he drawled, trailing inquisitive fingers up her shapely calf as he blinked at the flashing night sky.

Rolling her eyes, JJ winced as she bit out. "Yes, Will, the stars are very pretty."

"Spencer Reid!" Emily bit out, trying to kick off the hand Ray had wrapped around her ankle as she turned toward the only man currently keeping quiet. "You were the designated driver! How did you let this HAPPEN?"

"It wasn't my fault," Spence declared shaking his head wildly, his hands waving in protest. "I tried to get the bottles away from them, but then...then..."

"We mounted him to the wall..." Morgan giggled, the laughter bubbling up from his stomach, his shoulders bouncing against the cool ground.

"On the deer antlers!" Spencer yelped. "I could only hang there and watch for over an hour! They used me for dart practice," Spence wailed, crossing his arms over his chest in protection and disgust.

"You didn't!" Lizzie gasped as she looked in raging horror, kicking Dave quite angrily with her foot.

"Not me," Dave burped, pressing a hand to his chest in sanctimonious piety. "HIM!" he accused drunkenly, swing a hand out to shove Hotch's shoulder.

"Aaron Wilson Hotchner!" Anne's voice rang out from the porch, her footsteps marching against the planks. "You didn't abuse poor Spencer in such a way!"

"Not my fault, Auntie Anne," Hotch called back, holding his head as the words vibrated in his skull. "Antlers caught him when he was flying through the air."

Turning to look at the lanky young genius, Lizzie narrowed her eyes as she demanded, "Okay, Spence, start talking. Why were you flying through the air at…." She paused, looking around the flattened group, asking, "Where exactly were y'all tonight?"

"Sassy Anne's," Tommy mumbled, pushing up on Morgan's shoulder as he attempted to move upright. "Had th' corner room."

"You were at …at…at..that BROTHEL?" Lizzie yelled at the top of her tiny lungs, her hand meeting the back of her brother's head just as he sat up straight, knocking him back to the ground. "You took my FIANCE to the county WHOREHOUSE?"


	89. Chapter 89

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Eight-Nine**

"Five dollars!" rang out a chorus of drunken voices, followed by a thump as Morgan fell back to the ground, unable to maintain his upright status.

"Now, Lizzie," Dave muttered, using her legs to pull himself upright. Even in his inebriated condition, he wasn't so sloshed to not recognize that tone in her voice. The tone that foretold his impending doom if he didn't get his mind back in gear, quickly. "It's not what you think. I kept my promise, I promise!" Waving an uneasy hand over the general direction of his drinking mates, Rossi peered through the darkness as he declared, "Ask 'em, babe! They'll tell you!"

"Ah hell, Sissy!" Tommy complained, his heels tapping disgustedly against his mother's well-tended front yard. "That old man of yours weren't no fun. Made the girls put on enough clothes to make a nun proud."

"Fine waste of some prime honeys, man," Morgan muttered, rolling his eyes to the bright moon in the sky.

"Oh, really, Morgan?" Penelope bit out through her clenched teeth, her fuzzy-covered foot dangerously close to an important part of his manhood. "And what exactly would you have done?"

"Don't wanna answer that," Ray said, lurching to the side to clumsily slap a hand over Morgan's mouth. "It's a trap!"

"Which he would have fallen into nicely if not for you," Emily snapped, kicking Ray's leg again as he yelped.

"Why, he even made Cinnamon put on her clothes when she popped out of the cake," Tommy said disgustedly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"But the view for those few stolen moments will live a lifetime," Aaron drawled, pressing a hand to his heart as he saluted the Almighty. Or the man in the moon. Whoever was watching would appreciate the effort.

"One very spicy gal," Ray said with an appreciative loopy smile, his hand now back at his own side, Morgan's teeth having made an impression on his index finger.

Jerking away as Dave reached an arm toward Lizzie, she shook her head. "You heard me! You ALL heard me," she said, glaring down at the guilty men. "NO painted ladies! And you took him to that din of iniquity!"

"In his defense, he tried going back to the truck," Reid piped up, somehow feeling that he should at least offer a token bit of assistance for the man that had managed to capture the fair Lizzie's heart.

"And?" Lizzie snapped over her shoulder, arms akimbo as her robe flared out around her.

"THEY locked him out of it," Reid said, gesturing toward the men, ensuring that he was not at all implicated in the unfortunate action.

"I swannee, I'm gonna string ev'ry single one of you hooligans up by your toenails!" Lizzie exclaimed, stomping her foot on the cold grass.

"Get in line, little sister," Penelope muttered, nudging Derek Morgan's prone body with the tip of her feathered house shoe, his moan load in the night air.

"I tried to escape, honey, I promise," Dave swore, his hand pressed to the side of his head as he tried to stop the incessant ringing. "They wouldn't let me. Threatened to handcuff me with my own cuffs!"

"Didn't have a set of my own on me," Tommy mumbled, patting his pants pockets. "Left the rope in the barn, too."

Dragging her brother up by his ear, Lizzie jerked him straight as she snapped, "Thomas Joseph Winstead, I am gonna use that rope to string you from the rafters, you hear me? Of all the golldarned, foolish stunts you've pulled, this one takes the cake!"

"Ouch! Sissy, quit pinching!" Tommy roared, trying to pull away, only to find his sister's grip stronger than he remembered. "Rossi! Get your woman off me afore she kills me!"

"You wouldn't be that lucky!" Lizzie yelled back, yelping as she felt herself suddenly pulled backwards against a body that she recognized well. Knocking a well-aimed elbow backwards, she grinned darkly as she heard his gasp.

"Dammit, Lizzie, what the hell?" Rossi groaned, tightening his grip as she took aim again. "I thought you liked it when I held you close! Seem to remember you saying that just…."

Turning in his arms as she slapped her tiny hand over his moving mouth, assorted giggles and chuckles breaking out all around them, Lizzie hissed, "Would you quit broadcastin' our business for this gaggle of geese to honk out?"

"Please, oh God, please," Dave moaned, dropping his forehead to hers as he begged for just a shred of pity. "Please no animal references! Not now!"

Sighing as they walked down the front porch steps, James Winstead shook his head as he looked at his wife, "I think it's time we got this lot poured into bed. Otherwise, the bride's gonna kill the groom and ruin all those plans y'all have been a-makin this evenin'."

Nodding, Anne Winstead moved forward to pinch her youngest son's free ear between punishing fingertips. "You get yourself in that house, you troublemaker!" And looking over her shoulder, she said, her voice loud and imperious, "And none of ya'll drunken louses lay head to bed in my house before you shower that sinnin' stench off of your bodies!"

Watching as his youngest brother was trotted off by their mother, Ray grinned, flopping onto his back, singing at the top of his lungs, "_Some glad morning when this life is over, I'll fly away!"_

And in moments a full-blown gospel singing commenced from the men remaining scattered across the dewy grass. Rolling her eyes again at her singing Cajun, JJ looked toward Emily, yelling above the off-tune voices, "What are we going to do?"

Shrugging, Emily sighed. "I think we follow Mother Winstead's example," she yelled back, reaching down to pinch a singing Ray's ear, pulling him off the ground.

"...._to a home where joy shall never end....I'll fly away!" _Morgan sang as Garcia shoved him toward the kitchen door.

"Would you all shut up?" Rossi hissed loudly, using Spence and Lizzie for crutches as he toddled toward the house. "We're gonna wake up Aunt Myrtie's little green men!"

"_I'll fly away, oh glory! I'll fly away! In the morning! When I die, hallelujah, bye and bye, I'll fly away!_" Hotch sang loudly from behind them.

"Little green men?" Spencer bit out, his eyes casting about almost comically. "Not something that you tell the schizophrenic's son, Agent Rossi!"

"Izzzokay," Dave slurred, trying to pat Reid's hand but failing in the effort. "They're friendly. They come in peace."

"You'll think peace when Auntie Myrtie wallops you with her swatter for disturbin' her beauty sleep!" Lizzie declared darkly, propelling him into the house. Long minutes and multiple tries up the entirely too long staircase later, she stared in disgusted amazement as he laid spread across the quilt-covered bed. Popping her hands on her hips, she hissed, "You oughta be ashamed of yourself, David Rossi! Making a spectacle of yourself. Why, I oughta wallop you right upside that fool noggin of yours, you hear me?"


	90. Chapter 90

**Author's Note: Just a little shout out to three of my favorite authors who've decided to enact a little prompt of their own. Angel N Darkness, LacytheDemonicDuck, and Princess Aletheia have created a Song Title Prompt List for the H/P lovers out there. Check it out at .net/forum/Song_Title_Prompts/73635/**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter 90**

The sounds of loud voices, running water, and stomping feet invaded the closed room, the whole house sounding like it was going to fall down around his head. "The whole state of Georgia hears you, babe," Rossi moaned, reaching for a pillow to prop under his throbbing head. Hearing her footsteps grow louder as she stomped around the bed, he blindly reached out and grabbed her hand as she passed by, pulling her down onto the bed beside him.

Catching herself on her elbows as she tumbled backwards, landing with a humph, Lizzie gasped, "Dave, what in the blue blazes do you think you're doing? You're…."

"Gonna kiss my bride," he finished for her, reaching out to bury his hand in her thick, loose hair. Smacking a kiss to her lips, he grinned, "I can say bride now 'cause it's 'ficially our wedding day, you know."

Pushing him away, Lizzie scrunched up her face as she declared, nose upturned, "Well, I won't be kissin' you again anytime soon! You smell and taste like a moonshine still run amuck!"

"Can't go to sleep. Mama said to take a shower," Dave muttered, struggling to sit up. Fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, he smiled gratefully up at Lizzie as she brushed aside his fingers and took over the task herself. Wrapping one hand around her hip, he pulled at the sash of her robe with the other, the soft fabric falling to the side with ease.

Frowning as she helped him slide the shirt off his broad shoulders, Lizzie asked as he did the same with her robe, "What do you think you're doin', you heathen?"

"Getting you ready to take a shower with me," he grinned as Lizzie's nimble fingers worked his belt buckle.

"I've already had MY bath, Dave. And I'm not the one that smells like a whorehouse," Lizzie snorted, displeased, helping him stand up as she worked the button of his jeans.

Staring up at her standing there in her simple cotton gown, molded becomingly to her shapely body, Dave felt the blood in his body move south. "Oh, but you wouldn't want me to fall and hit my head in the bathtub, would you? It's your job as my wife to take care of me when I'm in need, honey."

"I'm not your wife yet though, am I?" Lizzie asked petulantly, reaching down to remove Dave's shoes as she studiously ignored his cajoling tone. "Are you sure you didn't see something inside that cathouse that caught your eye more than I do?"

Though her question was barbed with acid, Dave couldn't miss the underlying hurt and uncertainty hovering beneath her words. And not for the first time that night, he wished he'd hit Tommy a little harder a couple of days ago. "Hey," Dave murmured, drawing her down into his lap, her tone sobering him quicker than any amount of coffee could have ever accomplished. "Nothing happened tonight. I got a little drunk, Beautiful. That's the extent of my sins for the evening. Well, unless you count the impure thoughts I've had about this tiny little redhead with a sassy mouth," he added, squeezing her gently, his fingers cupping her hips even closer.

"You sure?" Lizzie whispered, letting her head fall against his warm neck as she tried to put those thoughts aside, to remember how much he had claimed to love her.

"I'm positive," Dave assured her quietly, tightening his arms around her, his hand burrowing to the nape of her neck. "Trust me, Lizzie, yours is the only naked body that I care anything about seeing. Why the hell do you think I insisted those girls cover up?"

Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, Lizzie shook her head against his throat, unable to meet his eyes. Her words were slow as she confessed, still worried, "I grew up seein' those girls around town. Always so pretty... and their bodies..."

"Are nothing compared to what I'm holding right now," Dave said, cutting her off smoothly as he shifted them on the bed, the springs creaking at the change. "I've found the woman I want and no good time girl is going to ruin that for either of us. I swear, honey, I spent half the night on the porch drinking alone. There was nothing inside that building that I wanted. The only thing I felt like I missed out on tonight was being with you."

Blinking quickly to clear her eyes, Lizzie swallowed. "I just want you to be sure, David. I trapped you into this and..."

Tensing, Dave shook her slightly as he fought through the fog in his mind. "Don't ever say that again, Elizabeth. You didn't trap me into anything. If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be. I want you. I _love_ you. I know that I've got my work cut out for me to convince you of that. But, don't ever say that you trapped me into marriage because _nothing_ could be further from the truth."

Sniffling, Lizzie nodded slightly, venturing a quick glance at his serious face, the truth evident in his barely sober eyes. Needing to do something before she burst into tears at his wonderful words, she whispered, "Let's get you into that shower." Pausing for a moment, she declared, firmly, "But just so you know, you'll be takin' it alone. Why, if daddy caught..."

"Your father looooves me," Dave slurred again, grinning down at her perfect face, unable to resist trailing a finger against her lips. "Besides, just wanna take a shower with you. That's all, honey! Scout's honor!"

"You were never a Boy Scout, David Rossi!" Lizzie hissed, trying to fight the warm, fuzzy feeling she had in the pit of her stomach when he pulled her close again. Drawing in a deep breath, she tugged him over to the connecting door to the bathroom, only to come to a full stop when the knob wouldn't budge.

Knocking loudly on the door, she ignored Dave's wince as she yelled, "Who's in there?"

"It's us, Lizzie," JJ called back, her voice barely controlled as it came through the solid wood. A second later, the door clicked open and JJ's pinched face appeared in the crack. Smiling tightly, she murmured over the sound of running water, "Gonna need a bit, Liz. Will's a bit under the weather." Glancing over her shoulder at a sudden noise, she grimaced as she shook her head again, "I revise that. It's gonna be a lot more than just a few minutes. Apparently being raised in the French Quarter didn't give him immunity against homemade moonshine."

Watching as the door clicked shut again, Lizzie jumped slightly as she felt Dave's hands fall to her hips again. Turning, she firmly removed the roaming fingers as she considered her options. Making up her mind quickly, she reached out and quickly snapped his jeans before she grabbed one of those hands, pulling him toward the door.

"Where we going?" Dave whined, looking longingly back toward the bathroom door. "I thought we were gonna take a shower together!"

"Oh, you're gonna see some water, Dave," Lizzie said mysteriously, pulling him out into the now quiet hallway, the earlier noise having died to muffled shuffles here and there. Seeing his mouth open, she slapped her tiny hand over it as she hissed, "And keep your voice down. Unless you want Mama and Daddy joining us on this little adventure, you hear me?"

Licking the palm of her hand before he pulled it away, Dave grinned down at her perfect face as he whispered loudly, "Is it gonna be a fun adventure?"

"Not if we get caught," Lizzie hissed over her shoulder as they slid down the staircase and out the back door.

Following his almost wife as she walked toward the barn, Dave winced, balking suddenly as he pointed toward the darkened hulk of a building. "Honey, you aren't gonna make me take one of those cold ass showers in the barn, are you?"

"I ought to," Lizzie snorted as she kept walking, jerking him by the hand as they moved into the meadow. "But no." Glancing over at him, she raised a brow as she asked, grinning, "Tell me, Dave, can you swim?"


	91. Chapter 91

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Ninety-One**

"I'm almost afraid to answer that question. But yes, as a matter of fact, I can," Dave informed her, grinning again as a faint breeze gently swept her gown around her, forming the fabric to her perfect body.

"Good...then you won't mind bathin' in the swimming hole then," Lizzie said over her shoulder as they broke into a clearing surrounded by tall hickory trees. Motioning toward the glimmering water, the moonlight bouncing off the almost perfect circle, she added, "The water should be nice and warm, so, you won't catch your death before the wedding." Tossing the towels she'd grabbed from the washing machine on the back porch on the ground, she jabbed a finger toward the water. "All right, fish, go on and swim."

Tilting his head, Dave shook his dark head, his eyes narrowing as he glanced from the small pond back to his future wife. "I'm not sure if I trust you."

"Huh?"

"I mean, what if there's some monster catfish in there ready to nibble on my important parts," Dave worried, looking toward the water, dark now that the moon had slipped behind a passing cloud.

"Dave, I've been swimmin' in that hole all my life. Trust me, there ain't no Loch Ness Monster done set up camp. Now get yourself in that water!" she said, shoving his chest toward the water's edge as she shook her head. Honestly, how could a man of his strength and age be scared of a little fishie?

"Why don't you come in and keep me company?" Dave suggested quickly as he grabbed her hand, pushing her robe off her shapely shoulders.

"Well, for one, I ain't the one that smells like a brewery. Second, I don't have a bathing suit on," Lizzie explained slowly, as though he was a precocious child, which at the moment, she thought he might be channeling.

"Ahhh, Lizzie," Dave murmured, wagging a finger in her face, the moon reappearing just in time to give him the view he so desperately needed. "You've got something much better," he whispered, sliding her gown up her legs and pulling it off in one long sweep of his arm. "Your birthday suit. I much prefer it anyway."

"You would!" Lizzie gasped as she watched her gown sail through the clearing, the pale fabric now adorning a copse of blackberry bushes. And before she could say another word, that impulsive man she'd said she would to had swept her into his arms, dropping her easily into the warm water.

Sputtering as she broke the surface, she glared at him as she tried to swipe her soaked curls away from her face. "I can't believe you just did that!" she yelped, splashing him. "I'm all wet!"

"That's usually what happens when you come in contact with water, babe," Dave chuckled, grinning at the sight before him. Her lily white skin glowed in the water and moonlight, and his own body suddenly reminded him of exactly what he'd like to be doing at this exact moment. Shucking off his jeans and boxers in mere seconds, he jumped in before his little bride-to-be could make other plans.

Sputtering as he landed beside her, splattering her once again, Lizzie jumped as she tried to push away from the waves he was creating. But his strong hands suddenly landed on her slippery hips, hauling her back against his dripping chest.

"Going somewhere?" he chuckled into her ear, sliding her wet locks over her shoulder as he dropped a kiss to her glistening neck, lapping the water droplets greedily.

Unable to stop herself, Lizzie moaned as she leaned back against his shoulder, giving him prime access to her throat. "I can't believe you threw me in! This isn't what I had planned, Dave!"

"Oh, but think of the tales we'll have to tell our children one day, honey," Dave whispered against her delicate skin, his hands sliding with ease over her soaked body. "Mama and Daddy went skinny-dipping on the night before their wedding."

"We'll be tellin' them no such thing, you hear me?" Lizzie snorted, turning in his arms as she pressed her palms against his muscled chest, sinking into the damp mat of hair. Glaring up at him, she declared, "No child of mine is gonna hear these tales of debauchery!"

"What if I agree not to tell our daughters," Dave winked, pressing a quick kiss against her full lips. "The sons though..."

"Are never gonna hear what a hell raiser their daddy was," Lizzie informed him tartly, lifting a hand to the top of his head and pushing him under the water.

Emerging seconds later, Dave laughed. "Trying to drown me, honey? Of all the ways I pictured you offing me, this wasn't one of them," he continued, reaching for her again as she swam just out of his reach.

"No. I'm trying to get that awful smell of loose women and whiskey off you," she said primly, splashing him again as she felt her foot slip slightly on the slick rocks at the bottom of the pond. Watching as he dived under the water, Lizzie looked uneasily around as she suddenly felt his hands sliding up her legs to cup her derriere. Shaking her head as he broke through the water, she frowned, wriggling in his grip. "You realize that you're incorrigible, right?"

"Honey, I'm skinny-dipping with my naked soon-to-be wife. A man would have to be a fool not to take advantage of this opportunity," he murmured, dropping wet kisses along her neck as he swam them toward the rock ledge behind her. Popping her on the seat nature had created for him, he smiled as he realized it put her pert breasts at the perfect level.

Seeing that familiar gleam in his eyes, even in the moonlight, Lizzie could only sigh as his lips approached their target. Moaning softly as his mouth gently surrounded a heavy peak, she couldn't resist burying her fingers in his hair. "We really shouldn't be doin' this, Dave," Lizzie whimpered, catching her breath as he moved to capture her other nipple between his teeth. "We could get caught."

"Honey, look behind you," Dave murmured, pressing a kiss to her taut stomach. "All the lights in the big house have gone off. Trust me, baby, nobody is worried about you and me right now."

Wrapping her legs around his hips as she leaned down to kiss him again, her tongue slowly tangled with his as her body shimmied back into the water, sliding down his aroused body. Catching her breath as she felt his thick manhood probe intimately, she lifted shocked eyes to his. Slowly sliding her achy core against it, she bit her lip.

What?" Dave whispered, feathering a kiss against her cheek as he thrust his hips forward, rubbing against her center, "Feel something you like, beautiful?"

Nodding, she closed her eyes, letting herself slide against him against, the most amazing feelings flooding her tense body. "But we can't, Dave," Lizzie moaned, dropping her forehead to his shoulder. "Not 'til the preacher pronounces us man and wife."

"I told you before, Lizzie," Rossi murmured against her hair, clenching his jaw as he felt her molten core rub against him once again, "There's plenty of other things we can do."

Oh, my, she thought with a shudder. Now they really were going to do things that were going to frighten the fish!


	92. Chapter 92

**__****Author's Note: Just wanted to let you guys know that no more posts until Monday. I need to take this weekend and try to write. Please leave a review and let me know your thoughts! Thanks again for reading. You guys make it worthwhile.**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter 92**

Shuddering as his arousal slid over that special hidden spot once again, the water seeming to emphasize those amazing feelings, Lizzie whispered, "I want to feel good again." Pressing her lips against his neck, she drew back as she stared into his dark eyes, the moonlight bouncing off those black orbs. "I want to make you feel good again, too."

Smiling down into her serious face, Rossi dropped a gentle kiss to her luscious lips, spreading his hands wider under her light hips as he shifted in the water, easing his back against the worn rocks. Raising her slightly, he slid her down his arousal, the touch of their bodies increasing the fire.

Surrendering to the sensations surrounding them, Lizzie moaned at the feel of the lapping water, the cool breeze flickering over her skin, and the amazing touch of this man that she was going to spend the rest of her life with. Feeling his arousal slide over and over against that special spot, she wrapped her arms around his neck as she breathed, "That feels amazing. What are you doing to me?"

"Loving you," Dave murmured against her lip as his hand slid down her back, cupping her bottom and holding her against him as he moved again, nudging her nether lips gently. "But I think maybe we need to get out of this water and stretch out on those towels. I'm fairly certain you and I might drown in here if we don't."

Nodding against his shoulder as she tightened her legs around his waist, she felt Dave slowly walking them out of the makeshift pool. Feeling him rub against her core with ever step he took, Lizzie held her breath, moaning softly, her mind no longer able to think when her body was feeling so amazing.

Making it to their towels a second later, Dave eased them both down on the softness. Hovering above her as he exchanged kiss after wet kiss with the beauty beneath him, he bit back a groan as he felt her hips shift underneath him again, trying to draw him closer. "Lizzie," he hissed against her lips, dropping his hand to still her seductive gyrations against him, "you've got to be still, baby. You're killing me up here." She tore a raw groan from his throat as she shifted her legs restlessly against his back.

"But it feels so good," Lizzie moaned, rubbing herself against him again as she turned her head to lightly bite his neck, her puckered wet breasts scraping his chest. Feeling his manhood probe her just a little more deeply, she lifted her hips, bringing his tip inside her. "Ohhhh!" she breathed as her eyes widened uncontrollably, trying to lift against him. "Move just a little, please!" Lizzie begged with a whispered plea, her fingers tightening insistently against his shoulders..

Sweating as he dropped his forehead against hers, Dave grunted as she shifted again, bringing his manhood just a little further inside her sweet tight body. "Jesus, God!" he growled, her tightness drawing him in seductively. "You're killin' me, honey."

"Take me with you if you die," Lizzie murmured, the sheer act of speaking almost too much for her frazzled mind to accomplish. Never in her life had she known the feelings he was creating in her taut body, always assuming that such a thing was just figments of the overactive mind of one of those romance writers whose books showed up on the checkout counter at the corner marker. But now that she had experienced them first hand, she wasn't about to give them up without a fight.

Forcing himself to breathe deeply, to force his mind to think rather than delegating that action to other, more important parts of his anatomy, Dave whispered, trying to keep his voice even and failing mightily, "Honey, you have to tell me if you want me to stop." Hissing as she rolled her hips beneath him, drawing him just a bit deeper, he groaned, "Now, Lizzie. Tell me now if you want to stop."

Trying to open her eyes, she fought the urge to give into the vortex swallowing her whole, finally meeting darkened gaze as his arousal seemed to stretch her ever so slightly more. Gasping at the incredible feeling, she shook her head, her dampened curls swishing against the worn cotton towel, "Don't stop. Please, keep loving me!"

"I could never stop loving you," Dave panted raggedly in her ear, rolling his hips forward to impale himself in her sweet body. Hearing her breathless gasp as her nails scored his shoulders, Dave stilled instantly. "Lizzie?"

"S-so full," she said hoarsely, fighting for each pull of oxygen as her legs tightened around his hips, pulling him deeper.

"Am I hurting you?" Dave asked, momentarily distracted from his body's need to move...to lay siege to the bliss her encompassing arms created.

"N-no, not exactly," she panted, struggling to describe this feeling suffusing her body, her head arching against the soft terrycloth. "You just feel so big."

Resting his sweating forehead against her shoulder, he swallowed tightly. "Your body was made to cradle mine. Just think of a stone falling in that water over there, honey. Let your body surround mine. Absorb me," he whispered against her neck, rolling his hips again as he twitched inside her.

"Ohhhh," she breathed, moaning at the vivid imagery his words created, lifting her hips to meet his gentle, shallow thrusts.

Feeling her soften underneath him, Dave plunged a little further into her heat, her sweet body burning him alive. "So good, Elizabeth," he grunted as her hands traveled over the corded muscles in his back. "Just like that, baby," he whispered encouragingly, dropping a hand to her hip as he helped her keep the steady rhythm between them.

Feeling her body tighten as his manhood stroked that sweet spot with every downward thrust, Lizzie closed her eyes, turning her face up to his, lips lifting to search frantically for his mouth. Sighing as he moved in and out of her, she tangled her tongue erotically with his. Heady sensations overwhelmed her as she felt his gentle strokes lengthen, touch something inside her that pulled a gasp from her lips. "Oh, God," she moaned against his mouth. "Don't stop!" she begged, lifting her body to receive his, needing him deeper.

Dave felt the world rapidly spinning away from them, his body searching for that ultimate bliss. God, he couldn't hold back. Thrusting harder as his hand lifted her thigh a little higher, he dropped kisses against Lizzie's neck, praying he could stave off his impending release until she'd reached heaven. Moving his hands between their bodies, he stroked her quickly with the pads of his fingertips, easily finding that sensitive spot he'd learned well. Her soft cries echoed in his ears even as her body began to tremble and her soft walls contracted against him.

"Dave? Dave!" she whimpered, clutching his neck as the first wave of release washed over her, her eyes tightly closed, bright flashes of light starting to explode on her eyelids.

Groaning as her body tightened around his, he rained kisses against her contorted face. "Ride it out, honey."

Screaming as crashing waves of pleasure slammed through her, Lizzie barely heard his deep groans as his body plunged into hers, his thrusts now erratic as she felt shudders wracking him. Holding on for dear life as his deep grunt reverberated against her ear, she felt him explode inside her, sending sharp spikes of pleasure through her again as his hot breath rasped against her neck.

"I love you," Dave moaned as his body melted into hers, perfectly joined to this woman that had managed to completely change his life.


	93. Chapter 93

**Author's Note: Hello, Readers. Hope you guys are still enjoying our wild ride through the South. Drop a review and let us know. We really appreciate each one of you that take the time to read our stories. Thanks again!**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Ninety-Three**

Her breaths catching in shallow gasps, Lizzie swallowed hard as she felt her body completely relax beneath his weight. Struggling to push the words out, she said, hoarsely, "I love you, too." The waves still floating through her body, tingling the top of her head all the way down to her curled toes, seemed to overtake all conscious thought, pushing out everything else that no longer seemed necessary. So this is what making love was really supposed to be like?

Finally regaining a modicum of strength, Dave rolled them slightly, pulling his weight off of her much smaller body, but keeping them joined in the most intimate of ways. He was unwillingly to let go of that immediate connection, to break that special bond that they had created.

Clutching at his shoulders as she felt her world suddenly move beneath and around her, Lizzie snapped her eyes open, searching for his face. "Dave?" she breathed almost desperately, afraid suddenly that she was going to wake up and this just be a cruel dream.

"It's okay, babe," he reassured her softly, his breaths slowly returning to normal, sliding his arm around her waist as he pulled her closer. "Not going anywhere. At least not anytime soon."

Nodding, her damp hair sliding against his outstretched arm, she finally whispered, amazement in her voice, "Is is always supposed to feel like that?"

"Honey, I don't think I've ever felt anything like that," Dave murmured, kissing her gently, his lips lingering against her soft mouth.

"You're the one that's done it before," Lizzie muttered, snuggling against him as a warm breeze blew over them, the rigid earth beginning to push through the soft towels. "I'm the beginner here."

"Sweetheart, all I'm sure about right now is that no woman has ever brought me that much pleasure," Dave whispered, pressing a kiss to her damp forehead, his fingers gently combing through her tangled curls, separating the strands one by one. "You okay?"

"Uh huh," Lizzie nodded, blinking up at him, swallowing as she felt another surge slide through her limbs. "I feel like my body's humming. Is that normal?"

Smiling gently at her, her simple innocence drawing him in even further, Dave nodded. "Very normal, honey." Quiet for a moment as he waited for his heartbeat to resume its normal pattern, Dave whispered, stroking a hand down her back, "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I know you wanted to wait."

"I thought I did," she admitted with a simple shrug, sliding her hand against his damp chest. Shifting against him, as she let her leg tangle with his, she added, no doubts in her words, "But I'm glad I didn't, Dave. I knew what I was doing." Her smile spread slowly over her lips then as she whispered, feeling the blush spread over her cheeks, "And I hope we can do it again."

Pressing a warm kiss to her lips, Dave met her smile for smile, shifting back slightly to let the moonlight play over her damp skin. "Oh, I can assure you, Elizabeth, that we'll be doing that many, many times. As many times as you want to."

Feeling him move again, his body separating from hers, Lizzie couldn't help but feel a slight disappointment at the loss. Pressing a kiss against his whiskered chin, she asked slowly, her fingers twining in the thick patch of hair covering his chest, "You think they'd miss us at the house if we just spent the night here by the pond?"

Chuckling at her sleepy words, Dave slid his hand underneath her hair, cupping her neck as he pulled her forward. "I'd say your mother might come looking for us if her daughter was missing on her wedding day. And I personally don't want to face your father if he finds us in this condition, babe. I don't think his understanding nature would extend this far."

Feeling the edges of her lip turn up at his words, Lizzie breathed out, her mind suddenly kicking into gear, "It is our wedding day, isn't it?"

Nodding, Dave tightened his grip, drawing her delectable body closer as he replied, softly, "It is. In less than twelve hours, you'll be Mrs. David Rossi."

"I'll be the LAST Mrs. David Rossi," Lizzie corrected him, lacing her fingers in his as she whispered, "Cause after what we just done, I think there's no going back."

"I don't have any desire to go backward, Elizabeth. Only forward. With you," Dave whispered, kissing her again as his fingers rubbed against hers, his thumb sliding over the engagement ring that she wore proudly on her left hand.

"Silver tongued devil," Lizzie muttered against his mouth as she returned his kiss, tentatively taking a chance as she flicked out her tongue, meeting his halfway.

"The good news is that I'm _your_ devil, babe," Dave grinned, rolling onto his back and pulling her on top of him as he attempted to ignore the sudden spike of a well-placed rock beneath them. Now he remembered exactly why making love outdoors was not always beneficial to one's health.

"I suppose you are now," Lizzie smiled, her hands cupping his face as her thumbs rubbed against his lips. "I'm sure I can find a way to bang the dents out of that tilted halo of yours. And with a little elbow grease, I'm sure the rust will just melt right away from it."

"On a one woman crusade to save me from myself, huh?" Dave chuckled, his fingers dropping to her delicate ribs, gently tickling those spots that he had learned would definitely get her attention.

"Well, I _do_ want to see my husband in the hereafter," Lizzie giggled against his chest, shimmying as she tried to escape those devious fingers of his

"Honey, if anybody could have accomplished the impossible and saved me from myself, I think it'd be you," Dave replied, drawing her lips to his as he deeply kissed her, claiming her lips for his own. Finally drawing back, her gasps still lingering against his lips, he whispered, "In fact, I think you already did."


	94. Chapter 94

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Ninety-Four**

Standing before the long mirror in Lizzie's childhood bedroom, Dave frowned as he once again attempted to tie the infernal bowtie that his soon to be wife had insisted he wear. Barely resisting the urge to rip the purple thing to tiny shreds and bury it in the damaged rose garden, he snapped it off his neck to start the process all over again.

Staring at that ridiculous scrap of fabric, he reminded himself that this is what happens when one rents one's tuxedo. He should have brought his from home, but oh no, that wasn't allowed. Between a very determined Anne Winstead and her partner in crime Penelope Garcia, he had been informed that he would wear the same monkey suit as the other men, so as to make sure they all matched perfectly. If there was one thing Mother Winstead was not going to stand, it was mismatched suits in her only daughter's one and only wedding pictures.

A black tux was a black tux, wasn't it? But apparently not in Piedmont, Georgia.

Hearing the door behind him click, he let out a sigh of relief as he saw Aaron Hotchner's reflection appear in the mirror. But then he noticed that the newcomer was wearing his tux, with a perfectly tied bowtie, and his appreciation at seeing him dropped several notches. Slipping the uncooperative piece of satin through the bands of his collar once again, Dave turned as he demanded, "How the hell did you get that infernal thing to stay put? Mine's apparently on a vendetta from hell to send me to an early grave before I can get Lizzie to say I do."

Rolling his eyes at his friend's obvious theatrics, Hotch shook his head as he answered, drily, "Dave, I seriously doubt that you're going to be taken out by a piece of clothing. I'm sure the Almighty has a far more painful manner planned for your future demise."

"Hah hah," Rossi barked sarcastically, turning back to the mirror as he once again fought with the slippery satin. "I'm sure you didn't come up here to just enjoy my dilemma. What's up?"

Grinning as he stuffed a hand into his tuxedo slacks pocket, Hotch replied, eyebrow raised, "We have a visitor in the front parlor. Or rather, YOU have a visitor."

"Look, Hotch, if it's another one of your crazy-ass relatives…."

Interrupting the tirade that was certain to come, Hotch opened the bedroom door as he motioned toward the hallway. "This is not a relative that you need to avoid, Dave. The preacher has decided to pay you a visit, and I suggest you don't keep him waiting. He's got a few questions for you before he performs the ceremony."

"Oh, what fresh hell is this?" Dave asked, turning to glare at what was rapidly turning into his former best friend. "First the damn bow tie and now the freaking minister?"

Stepping forward, Hotch brushed Dave's hand away from his collar impatiently, taking over the task. "Do me a favor. Don't open with that," Hotch snorted.

"What in the name of all that's holy does he want, Aaron?" Dave asked grumpily, grimacing as Hotch pulled the material tight. Was the man deliberately trying to strangle him? Apparently he had spent a bit too much time with serial killers and was beginning to pick up on some of their tricks.

"Just that," Hotch murmured, concentrating on the tie. "To make sure this union is indeed holy. A few tidbits of advice, Dave..."

"Why do I have a feeling that I'm not gonna like the wisdom you have to impart?" Dave asked suspiciously, turning to look in the mirror as Hotch finished with the tie.

"If you wanna marry Lizzie, I suggest you listen," Hotch urged.

"Oh, make no mistake, Aaron," Dave said, looking over his shoulder as he slid a finger between his collar and his neck, "I AM marrying Elizabeth. No ifs, ands or buts about it."

"Then for the sake of all our time and your continued sanity, forget you're Catholic for today. Say it with me...I am not a Catholic," Hotch intoned, his eyed deadly serious.

"Pardon me?" Dave asked, quirking his dark brow. "I've been Catholic for fifty three years, Hotch. Trust me, it's not something that can be turned off and on like a switch."

"Well, today you're not. Today, you can be Baptist...Methodist...an atheist. But you can't be Catholic. No Southern Minister is gonna perform that ceremony."

"Honest to God, Hotch, do your people think that I'm gonna drag Lizzie off to make a deal with the devil just because I happen to talk to a priest rather than a preacher on a regular basis?" Dave snorted, stopping mid-step on the landing on the stairs.

"Look, Dave, I'm just the messenger. Please remember that I'm the one that's rooting for you and Lizzie to get married. And if you want that to happen today, then you'll do as I suggest and disavow all knowledge of the Pope and the Vatican unless you want to be looking for a preacher to perform your wedding in less than two hours," Aaron answered, pushing him forward with a determined hand.

Shaking his head as they reached the bottom floor, Rossi muttered, "If my mother was alive, she'd be cursing me up one side and down the other for even considering this fool idea."

"I'm sure she'd be wanting you to do whatever necessary to preserve this marriage before it even began. I think she met wives one, two and three and wasn't at all thrilled with them, correct?" Hotch countered, poking Rossi in the ribs as they rounded the corner into the large drawing room. Plastering on his best professional smile as he walked toward a tall man in a plain black suit with a black tie, large red Bible in hand, as he said, genially, "Pastor Allen. It's good to see you again."

"Aaron, my boy," Pastor Jedidiah Allen boomed, his voice carrying throughout the entire house and out to the barn in the back, "How have you been?"

"Just fine, sir," Hotch answered politely. Gesturing toward Dave, he grinned as he said, "Let me introduce David Rossi. Lizzie's fiancé and the groom of the day."

Sticking out his hand proactively, Dave attempted to duplicate Aaron's smile as he said, as pleasantly as possible, "It's nice to meet you, Pastor Allen."

Taking Dave's hand in his own, the Baptist pastor tightened his grip on his fingers as he said, his eyes narrowing, "Tell me, son. Do you know the Lord?"

"Personally?" Dave asked blankly, gripping the elderly pastor's hand.


	95. Chapter 95

_**Author's Note: We so hope everyone is still enjoying our little adventure with Dave and Lizzie. Hold on to your hats because the best is yet to come!**_

_**As you read the coming chapters, please bear in mind that this is not intended to offend anyone of any faith. We, the authors, have Baptist, Catholic, atheist, and all manners of other denominations in our immediate families. And we both know from first-hand personal experience that the joining of different faiths in the South sometimes creates unique and often humorous situations. Some pastors/priests refuse to marry couples with differing faiths, as you'll soon see in Lizzie and Dave's story.**_

_**Enjoy the ride, and please let us know what you are thinking about this adventure.**_

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Ninety-Five**

"Is there any other way?" Pastor Allen asked genially, his hand tightening around the soon-to-be groom's.

"Ahh...I'm sorta feeling my way here, sir," Dave said, valiantly trying to sidestep the man of God, pulling his hand away from that iron grip.

"Oh...a lost soul then? Well, I'm certain if anyone can lead you into the light it would be our Lizzie," the pastor nodded, his eyes lighting up at the thoughts of adding another member to the faithful flock. "Baptized her myself, I did. When did you accept the Lord Jesus Christ into your heart, son?"

Hearing Hotch clear his throat behind him, Dave rapidly felt the situation spinning away from him. Honestly, there wasn't a good way to answer the old man's question...at least not in a way that would satisfy all parties and keep peace in the family at this critical juncture. And hadn't Lizzie been lecturing him at length on the virtues of truth and honesty? He couldn't disappoint her, could he? Especially on today of all days!

Perhaps the best way to handle this entire situation would be to divert the topic entirely. Meeting the older man's direct gaze, Dave said evenly, "I think you and I might have different opinions of exactly how one gets to know God, sir. But at least we're both on speaking terms with him in our own way."

Shrugging his shoulders as he tucked the large Bible firmer underneath his arm, the elderly pastor narrowed his eyes as he said, calmly, "Tain't but one way to make his acquaintance. And it's a fairly simple question. Either your name's written in the book or it ain't."

The sound of footsteps on the stairs echoed through the hallway as Anne Winstead came strolling into the room, forestalling any further questions or answers for the moment. Her hair perfectly coiffed and ready for the daily festivities, she smiled as she crossed the room, hand held out. "Pastor Allen! What a pleasant surprise!"

Turning from his current grilling of Dave, the country preacher smiled as he took Anne's proffered hand. "Anne! How's the mother of the bride today?"

"About to pull my hair out if we don't get this show on the road!" Anne replied, glancing over her shoulder at the two men. Arching a knowing brow, she demanded, "Speaking of which, don't you two need to be leaving for the church soon with the rest of the wedding party? Perhaps Pastor Allen can give you a ride. If I'm reading the sky right, those dark clouds in the distance are tellin' me we're about to have a humdinger of a storm, and I'd prefer you were on your way long before the first rain drop fell."

"Actually, Anne, I was just in the middle of having a conversation with Lizzie's fiancée. You know that I have a rule about not marrying couples without counseling, which I had waived given the circumstances this time," the preacher explained, cutting his eyes from the bride's mother to the almost groom. "But I'd like to at least know that Lizzie's gonna run into her new husband in the hereafter afore I join 'em together in holy matrimony."

"And I assure you that wherever my wife is, I have no intention of being far behind, in this life or whatever comes after," Dave said evenly, noting the tense look Hotch and Anne exchanged behind the Pastor's back.

"I see you're a man with a few miles under your belt, Agent Rossi. Is this your first marriage?" Pastor Allen asked seriously, his tone thoughtful.

"Oh dear," Anne breathed, fidgeting nervously.

"Actually, no, sir. It isn't," Dave said calmly, meeting the man's gaze evenly.

"So your first wife has gone on to meet the Lord then?" the elderly man said gently.

"No, last I checked she was still quite happily spending her alimony checks," Rossi replied honestly.

Shaggy eyebrows lifting, Pastor Allen took a step back. "Alimony, ya say?" he asked uneasily, tugging on his sleeves.

"We're divorced. But we did receive an annulment from the Church," Rossi explained quickly, having decided that Lizzie's belief that the truth would set him free was worth a shot.

"Annulment? Son, ain't no such thing in the church I'm a part of," the pastor said, his eyes narrowing as he added, his tone starting to change, "The only proper way the Scripture allows for a man and woman to be separated from their holy vows is by leaving this earth for their everlastin' reward."

"Trust me, sir, if I could have had that option with any of my previous wives, I probably would have taken it," Dave replied with a roll of his eyes, then winced as he realized that he probably shouldn't have said that aloud. And Aaron's low groan behind him just reinforced that very thought.

"Great, Dave, just great," Aaron hissed in a dark whisper as he stepped up beside him, cutting his eyes darkly in the older man's direction. "Are you trying to cause problems?"

But Dave's attention was not on his friend, but rather on the pastor as the older man started shaking his grey head. His tone heavy, the long-time man of God intoned, "I'm afraid we might have a misunderstanding here. Exactly how many previous wives have you had, Mr. Rossi?"

Meeting the man's eyes, Dave cocked a brow as he answered, "Three. Although the last one only lasted for six months before I realized that she wasn't going to…."

"If I may, Pastor Allen," Aaron interrupted smoothly, stepping forward to literally put himself between Dave and the obviously confused parson. "While Dave's past might not be what you're accustomed to hearing about, he has had a change of heart over the past years and has definitely turned over a new leaf. He is definitely committed to making his marriage with Lizzie something that will be honorable and lasting."

"Aaron's right, Pastor," Anne added, stepping forward as she patted Dave on the arm, her fingers pinching his arm as he started to open his mouth.

Damn, Dave thought to himself, having enough sense to at least not utter that thought aloud. Now he knew where Lizzie got her skill at pinching.

Continuing seamlessly, Anne smiled as she said, "You know that we wouldn't trust our Lizzie's future to just anyone. Dave's definitely proven himself to be worthy of Lizzie's heart."

"That may be so, Anne, but my questions are concerning his heart," Jedidiah Allen said heavily, shifting his leather-covered Bible from one hand to the other as he trained his eyes on the man in question. "Son, you're not a Baptist, are you?"

Feeling Aaron's elbow pressing against his ribs, Dave sighed as he shook his head, knowing that he couldn't lie to this man, not if he wanted Lizzie to respect him. "No, sir, I'm not."

"Presbyterian?" the preacher asked, almost hopefully, his eyes widening.

"Let's just cut to the chase, okay?" Dave declared, crossing his arms over his chest belligerantly. "I'm a Catholic. Have been since I was born. I've been married and divorced, legally, three times before. I also believe in the benefit of a fine scotch for medicinal purposes, and I tend to enjoy the occasional Cuban cigar. And Elizabeth claims I sporadically use words that could make a sailor with Tourette's Syndrome blush. Now, how is all of that going to be a problem?"

"Aaannnddd, we're done now," Hotch muttered darkly under his breath, staring in abject horror at the man that had just sabotaged his own wedding.


	96. Chapter 96

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Ninety-Six**

"Problem?" Jedidiah asked slowly, shaking his mane of grey hair in silent shock . His eyes almost bulging at the details he had just heard, he added, "Well, now, I'd say this here definitely qualifies as a problem, son." Looking at Annie, the Pastor shook his head sadly. "Annie, you know there's nothin' I can do. I can't marry Lizzie to this sinner. Twouldn't be right in our Lord and Savior's eyes."

"Excuse me?" Dave yelped, drawing up to his full height as he stared in utter amazement at this self-proclaimed determiner of his immortal soul.

His sigh heavy, filled with self-righteous gloom, Lizzie's childhood pastor intoned, "It's out of my hands. The Good Book firmly commands against unevenly yoking a God-fearin' pure young woman like Lizzie with a heathen."

"Wait just a minute!" Dave yelled as he waved a hand in the air, wondering if he was still asleep and in the middle of some nightmare brought about from the large amount of liquor he had consumed the night before. But he had a distinct feeling that this was truly reality as they knew it now, which was scarier than any nightmare he'd ever endured. Drawing in a deep breath, he bit out slowly, "Are you telling me that because I happen to have a different religion than you, that you won't perform my wedding ceremony in…" He glanced down at his watch, then snapped out, "One hour and fifteen minutes?"

"It's not just your faith, son. Those previous marriages of yours tell me that you've not exactly been serious about the vows you've made in the past, and I'm not about to risk a-joinin' you to Lizzie only to have her experience the same fate." The elderly man of God added sternly, his eyes narrowing, "And seein' as how you a-claim to love Lizzie, you might want to think about turnin' from your wicked ways and keeping your body pure as the temple of God it was intended to be!" Turning from Dave, he addressed Lizzie's mother. "Please tell Lizzie how sorry I am that this happened at the last minute," Pastor Allen apologized to Anne, reaching out a hand to pat her on the shoulder as he slipped by her, heading toward the door.

"Wait! That's all you have to say?" Dave demanded, intending to grab the older man's arm and stall him. But before he could move, he felt Aaron's hand clamp down on his shoulder.

"Don't, Dave," Aaron advised with a heavy voice, shaking his head as he met Dave's angry eyes. "It won't do any good. He's made up his mind, and getting a Southern preacher to change his mind over ingrained theology is harder than getting a Republican to marry a Democrat on the White House lawn."

Turning toward his future mother-in-law, Dave clenched his jaw as he asked, darkly, "Surely you can do something to stop him, Anne. He's known you the longest. And neither one of us wants to have to explain to Lizzie how the preacher has walked out on the wedding at the eleventh hour."

A loud squeak came from the staircase just then, all heads turning quickly in that direction. And David Rossi let out a groan of despair as he heard his beloved yell at the top of her powerful lungs, "What do you mean, Pastor Allen won't do our wedding?"

"Elizabeth Grace Winstead!" Anne called out from the foot of the stairs as Pastor Allen brushed past her, his heavy footsteps pounding on the front porch, "You scoot yourself right back into the bedroom, Little Girl. You know that it's bad luck for the bride to see her beau before the weddin'!"

"Mama! The good for nothin' groom has done gone and ran off the preacher," Lizzie wailed, "I'd say the bad luck is already here!"

"Well, there is that," Anne sighed, glaring over her shoulder at a flustered David Rossi as he looked helplessly at Hotch.

"Don't look at me," Aaron muttered, holding up a hand, knowing from experience that he wouldn't want to be in the middle of a war between the almost-husband and wife. "I was the one telling you to hold your peace, Rossi."

"How could you, Dave?" Lizzie hissed, slapping her hands against the stairwell, her fingers gripping the polished wood with a vengeance. "You knew how important it was for me to married in the Church!"

"Honey," Dave groaned, feeling his cheeks flush, whether with ire or embarrassment, he wasn't sure, "Aren't you the one that's been yapping at me about the value of honesty? How I have to be truthful if I want to make this marriage a success?"

"And today, of ALL days, you decided to turn up your hearing aid and actually hear what I had to say?" Lizzie wailed, stomping her feet on the risers as she kept her glare firmly placed on him. "There's gonna be over two hundred people down at the church waitin' on a ceremony that ain't got a hoofbeat's chance in hell of happenin'! What in the Sam Hill did you say to him, Dave?"

As Dave opened his mouth to answer her question, Lizzie held up a hand. "Never you mind! Aaron, you tell me what he did," she charged her cousin. "Then you go out there," she ordered, pointing toward the door, "and undo it!"

"Lizzie, I can't magically make three bad marriages disappear. There's no positive spin I can put on that," Aaron groaned, running a hand over his sweating brow.

"And I'm fairly certain that we can't convert a Catholic in under an hour, honey," Anne kindly reminded her daughter.

"You told him EVERYTHING?" Lizzie shrieked, her hands slapping against her beautifully made-up cheeks as she stared in horror and despair at her almost-husband.

Shrugging helplessly, Dave mumbled as he stared at the floor, wondering why he suddenly felt like a six year old facing Sister Consuela for hitting his best friend, "He asked."

"You helped him along," Aaron growled from beside him, elbowing Dave again just because he could. "Just had to start mentioning all three wives and every vice known to mankind."

"Ow!" Dave yelped as he jerked away from his so-called best man, pressing a hand to his already bruised ribs. "What the hell?"

Feeling the blood rush to her cheeks as she stared down at the man she was planning on promising to love for the rest of her life, Lizzie screeched, "You _helped_? Are you TRYING to find a way to not marry me?"


	97. Chapter 97

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Ninety-Seven**

"Dammit, Lizzie, you know that's not true!" Dave snapped, his eyes darkening as he stared up at his intended, realizing that she honestly believed he had done this on purpose. Trying to calm down before his blood pressure flew through the roof, he said, calmly, "Honey, it's just been a big misunderstanding. I'm sure that…."

"DAVE!" Smacking both hands down on the polished banister as she glared daggers, Lizzie stomped down the stairs as she threatened, "I swannee, David Rossi, if I get my hands on you, the question of whether or not my body'll carry your child ain't gonna be a worry any longer! I'm gonna rip your…."

"Elizabeth Grace!" Seeing her daughter preparing to descend in full wrath, her eyes widened to the point of bugging out of her head, Anne stepped up on the last step on the long staircase. Placing one hand firmly on the banister as she effectively barred the area, she declared to the room at large, "That's enough!" Turning toward her daughter, she ordered, her eyes brooking no argument, "Elizabeth! March right back up those stairs, finish your makeup, and prepare to head out to the church."

Turning toward Hotch, she commanded, "Aaron. You find your uncle, hightail it on to the church grounds, and get to movin' chairs out of the Sunday School rooms to the flat area beside the sanctuary. If we're lucky, we'll get this show on the road long before that thunderstorm drops its first speck of rain."

"But Mama," Lizzie moaned, shaking her head as she buried her hands in her hair, "What in the name of Jehosophat are you plannin'?"

"You want to be married at the church. You're getting married at the church," Anne answered firmly, turning her daughter around and giving her a helpful shove back up the stairs.

"Anne, I'm not sure I'm following," Dave interrupted, trying to gain some sort of grasp on this entire situation.

"What else is new?" Lizzie muttered, glaring down at him. "If you'd had the sense God gave a goose, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

Waving a hand in his direction, Anne said, her voice tight but still lady-like as she ignored her daughter, "Cain't no one but the preacher marry in the church building without deacon approval. So we'll just set up outside the church and find us another preacher."

"On such short notice, Aunt Anne?" Aaron inquired, already moving toward the front porch as he caught his aunt's glare, deciding that obeying was far better than delay at this point.

From the top of the stairs, a feminine voice called down, "What's this I hear? Did we lose the minister at the last moment?"

"Penny!" Lizzie wailed, throwing her hands up in the air as she stomped up the stairs, each pounding of her foot against the floor echoing like a herd of elephants was stampeding through the antebellum home. "He," she added pitifully, pointing down the stairs at Dave, "has RUINED my perfect wedding!"

Throwing up his hands in disbelief, Dave called out, "Honey! I said I didn't mean to! You have to believe me!"

Bending down to peer through the top slats of the antique railing, Lizzie frowned at him as she snapped, "You keep sayin' that, Dave, but it ain't makin' it anymore believable! You let that preacher slip out of her like a greased pig at the county fair without so much as a-tryin' to tackle him! If that ain't ruinin', I don't know what is!"

One perfectly manicured brow rising in the air, Penelope glanced over the polished railing at the scene below. Pasting a serene smile on her face, Pen shook her head. "Now, Gumdrop, you don't think we're gonna let you special day be anything less than yabba dabbo do fantastic, do you?"

"But, Penny," Lizzie moaned as she leaned her head against the spiraled wood, "He ran off my Pastor!" she said, pointing an accusing finger toward Dave.

"I did not," Dave groaned, reaching up to touch the tip of her finger, trying to make some sort of contact with the woman he was certain he wanted to love for the rest of his life. "I told the truth...just like you told me to!" Why the hell couldn't anybody keep the rules straight for him. Always tell the truth EXCEPT to the man of God? That didn't sound right, did it?

Patting Lizzie's shoulder, Penelope tsked, "Now, my little Georgia Peach, do you honestly think I'm going to allow some bumbling Italian Stallion to mess up this perfect picture of domestic bliss? You just go finish getting ready and your lucky Penny is gonna handle everything," she soothed.

"You sure, Penny?" Lizzie asked hopefully, jerking her fingers away, throwing a dark glare in his direction as she pulled herself back up.

"Does Bill Gates secretly rule the world?" Pen smiled convincingly. "Of course, I'm sure. Now, go!" she said, giving the young bride a tiny shove toward her bedroom.

Waiting until the bedroom door firmly closed, Penelope barked, stomping down the stairs, "I need a modem, my laptop and a whole lotta caffeine!"

"What's the plan, Garcia?" Hotch asked, looking hopefully at his technical analyst. It was a proven fact that the woman before them had performed miracles before and he could only hope that her ability to walk on water was still in tiptop shape.

"I'm gonna find a way to blackmail a Baptist," Pen huffed, brushing past them all, the satin train of her bridesmaid dress flouncing behind her as she headed toward the kitchen.

"Can she do that?" Dave asked, his eyes still glued to the top of the stairs, his last glimpse of his fiancée still in his mind.

Rolling his eyes as he grabbed Dave's arm and jerked him toward the door, Aaron muttered, "Have you not been paying attention for the past three years? That woman can do anything that she puts her mind to. Now shut up and just be glad that she's on our side and not currently planning your imminent demise. Now, let's get the woman's computer set up before she decides to just blow up the church and start from scratch."

"Aaron," Anne Winstead called as they were about to walk out the door, "You'll make sure this works, won't you?"

Nodding as he smiled reassuringly at his favorite aunt, Aaron Hotchner said, "Trust me, Aunt Anne. If anyone can salvage this day, it's Penelope Garcia."


	98. Chapter 98

******_Author's Note: Many thanks to everyone who has been reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting this story. My co-author and I truly appreciate hearing from our readers in whatever capacity you care to contact us. It's a very rewarding experience to know that people are enjoying something you produce. For those of you that follow our stories, this will be the last posting until Sunday night/Monday morning. We're going to take a couple of days and try to get some hard core writing done for you. As ever, any of you that have plot bunnies running around in your head that you don't particularly want to right, but would love to see...shoot them over to us. We're always looking for fresh ideas. And, as much as we'd like to say we did, we don't own Criminal Minds. _**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Ninety-Eight**

One hour and seventeen minutes later, David Rossi stared in amazement as he stood just inside the side entry way of the small country church. From floor to ceiling, the entire area was covered in flowers and purple decorations, all signifying his coming nuptials. Nudging the tall man beside him, he muttered underneath his breath, "Tell me again how this all worked out so quickly."

"If anybody asks, we disavow all knowledge, Dave, remember?" Aaron hissed back, gently patting the hands of two doddering spinsters who chattered to themselves as they made their way into the brightly lit sanctuary.

"I got that part," Dave snapped quietly, under strict orders from his still agitated bride to keep his temper under wraps until everything was said and done. Glancing over his shoulder at a sudden burst of laughter from a group just entering the door, he shook his head. "I still feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone."

"So Garcia managed to find a few instances where our good pastor might not have been so forthcoming on his federal taxes for the last fifteen years about the kickbacks he's been receiving from the two funeral parlors in town," Aaron shrugged, smiling politely at the passing guests as they continued into the already packed church. "And what with the current preponderance of federal agents suddenly appearing on his doorstep, the pastor decided immediately that it might be best if he had a change of heart…in many different areas."

"Whatever," Dave muttered, pulling at the restrictive tie around his neck. "As long as I know that Lizzie's still going to marry me, I don't care if she had to personally drag the director of the Treasury down here to haul his ass to prison. All he has to do is say whatever words necessary to make Lizzie happy, and his part is finished."

And that's exactly what he intended to see happen. As long as his Elizabeth was happy, then the end justified whatever means necessary. Tugging at his collar again as he stared around the small anteroom, Dave couldn't help but wonder exactly where Lizzie was at that moment. Somehow, he knew that she was near, able to feel her in his soul. Aaron had claimed that she was definitely in the building, putting the final touches on her dress, but he still wasn't certain that he believed the man. He muttered as he punched Aaron in the side again, "Tell me why I just didn't convince her to elope, Hotch."

"Because you were smart enough to realize that Lizzie wasn't going to settle for anything less than the full treatment with her family in tow, Dave," Hotch answered immediately. Cocking his head, he added, conceding, "But I will admit that it would have been a lot easier if you two had just ran off to Vegas. Of course, it would have also been easier if Uncle James was still the Pastor of this church, but his retirement put a crimp in things."

"Wouldn't have mattered," Dave shook his head as he glanced down impatiently at this watch, mentally willing the second hand to fly faster. "Lizzie's dead set on her father walking her down the aisle. We would've had to find a minister somewhere." About to add more, he stopped suddenly as he heard a loud organ note sound through the small area.

Glancing toward the back of the church as the music began, signifying the big event, Aaron coached softly as they walked to their position at the front of the altar, "You're almost to the finish line, Dave. The end zone is in sight and there's thirty seconds on the clock. All you have to do is remember two words. I do. That's it. Two simple words and we score the touchdown."

"Would you stop talking about my marriage in terms of the SuperBowl, Aaron," Dave muttered under his breath. "I'm stressed enough. Are you positive she said that she'd still marry me?"

"I just left her at the back of the church, Dave, ranting about it thundering on her wedding day. She's due to hit the field any second now," Hotch assured him calmly.

"Seriously, Aaron, knock it off. We both know you hate football," Dave grumbled, keeping his eyes glued to the back of the church, eager for his almost-wife's appearance. Hell, had he ever had butterflies on any of his wedding days? Crap...don't think about those fiascos...not now.

The sudden sound of the organ bellows roared through the small church, the beginning of the Wedding March sounding for all assembled. As every eye turned toward the back center doors of the sanctuary, Dave watched impatiently as the four bridesmaids glided down the aisle, their purple satin dresses catching the gleam of the overhead fluorescent lights as they clung to the arms of the men escorting them.

But it was the sight of the bundle of white framed in the doorway that literally took his breath away. Suddenly unable to breath, Dave stared in utter amazement at the vision of beauty that was soon to be his wife.

Her flaming red hair pulled into a mass of curls on the top of her head, clipped with some sort of white netting, Elizabeth Grace Winstead stared directly at the man that she was determined to spend the rest of her life with. Feeling her toes curl in the tips of her white ballet slippers as she let her eyes lock on his, Lizzie felt her cheeks suddenly flame as she saw the love and desire reflecting in his gaze. Lord have mercy, she thought to herself, tightening her grip on her father's tuxedo-clad arm, fighting the urge to fan herself with her bouquet.

"You sure about this, LizzieBear?" James Winstead whispered into the ear of his only daughter, patting her hand gently. "If'n you're not, I'll make sure everything's taken care of. I got my shotgun in the truck loaded with enough buckshot to pepper his backside from here to the Mason-Dixon line."

Smiling up at her father as she swallowed hard, Lizzie nodded once as she whispered back, "I'm certain, Daddy. I think I've been waiting my whole life for him."

"Then let's get this show on the road," James declared with a smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead, a bit of netting getting caught in his mustache.

Reaching up to adjust her veil, Lizzie smiled back as she stepped forward, her eyes once again shifting back to Dave's, knowing that with each step she took, she was moving forward to her new life with him.

Meeting her eyes as she walked toward him, Dave dug his nails into his palm, needing the pain to remind him that this was real. That it wasn't a dream that would end. But as she drew closer, he released his fist, her serene emerald gaze assuring him that she was no mirage. Reaching for her delicate hand as her father gave her away, Dave finally released the breath he'd been holding. Hand firmly encased in his, he grumbled, "About time."

"Miss me?" Lizzie grinned up at him, cocking her head as she let herself relax, her fingers tightening around his as she inched closer.

"All my life, Elizabeth," Dave replied quietly, his voice sincere.

Listening with half an ear as the Pastor performed the ceremony, Dave's eyes drew away from her soft gaze only once - as the congregation was asked for any objections to their holy union. Glaring over his shoulder at the assembled guests, virtually daring anyone to so much as sneeze, he heard the soft chuckles of their family and friends filling the sanctuary.

Pinching Dave's hand, Lizzie whispered, her cheeks reddening slightly, "Quit makin' growly faces, Dave. They all get the point."

"Just making sure," Dave muttered with a wince, capturing her painful pinchers again as the Pastor continued his necessary words, all intent on joining them together in holy matrimony. Sliding the delicate wedding band over her finger at the appropriate time, he barely resisted sweeping her into her arms at that very moment, the feeling of completion flooding through him as he knew that she was indeed his.

Seconds later as the ceremony completed and they were pronounced man and wife, Dave led Lizzie back down the aisle as their friend and family looked on, smiles and happy tears all around them. They'd barely cleared the door when a flash of lightning crashed against the towering steeple.


	99. Chapter 99

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter Ninety-Nine**

Sighing impatiently, Lizzie grabbed Dave's tuxedo-clad arm once again as she hauled him back to stand beside her. Hissing under her breath as she smiled sweetly at the various faces around the packed room, she threatened, "If you move one more inch, David Rossi, I swear to the Almighty I'm gonna beat you upside the head with my bouquet. And thanks to Tommy, there's more thorns than roses, so you're gonna feel the pain, mister."

Wrapping an arm around her waist, Dave grinned as he pressed a kiss to her cheek, whispering into her ear, "Now, dear, that's not love I hear in your voice. We've only been married for a couple of hours and you're already threatening physical violence."

"That wasn't a threat, Dave, that was a promise," she muttered, pinching his hand as she relaxed against his strong, steady body. Pulling up the edge of her wedding gown as he tugged her to a vacant corner, she let out a sigh, her cheeks sore from all the smiling and nodding she had done. If she never made nice with one more tacky person in her life, it would be entirely too soon! Honest to goodness, she didn't know that Piermont had this many people in the entire town!

Shifting his weight as he felt her collapse against him, Dave pulled her closer as he glanced sharply at her fatigued face. Tilting her chin, he asked, seriously, "Honey, I think it's time you took a break. We can…."

Her eyes widened as she comprehended his words. Slapping at his chest, she yelped as she flattened his boutonniere, "Are you kidding me? There's more people here than I've seen in a month of Sundays! Mama would have my hide if I hightailed it out of my own weddin' reception. It just ain't done, Dave!"

"It's done if I say it's done, babe." Ignoring the crowded room around them, the normally expansive Winstead home packed to the rafters with apparently the entire population of Piermont, all wearing what passed for their Sunday best, Dave said firmly, "And I don't give a damn about these people or their…."

But Lizzie didn't have an opportunity to chasten him for his choice of words, the happy voice of her mother interrupting their private conversation.

"Lizzie!" Anne Winstead said cheerfully as she barreled toward the happy couple. Smiling at her only daughter, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek as she said, "You look beautiful in your grandmother's dress, honey. And the ceremony was just perfect, don't you think?"

"It was wonderful, Mama. Dave and I can't thank you enough," Lizzie said with a genuine smile as she kissed her mother's cheek, realizing that this was the first time she had done so as a married woman herself.

"Yes, it was truly beautiful," Dave murmured, releasing his new wife long enough to peck Anne Winstead's cheek. Glancing down at his watch, he added, hoping his mother-in-law could hear him over the chatter in the room, "But as beautiful as it was, Lizzie and I have a flight to catch."

"We do?" Lizzie yelped, turning to look at her husband, her eyebrows rising to meet her hairline.

"Of course you do," Anne said, patting her hand encouragingly. "You can't spend your wedding night at your Mama's house, honey. Your daddy's comin' round, but let's not ask the Almighty for any more miracles today. I believe we need to count our blessings that the church didn't burn to the ground!"

"Thank God for the lightning rod in that steeple," Dave muttered with a shake of his dark head, tugging Lizzie closer, counting the minutes until their escape would be complete. "And considering that the rain passed quickly, I don't think we need to be tempting any more fate, babe."

"Good point," Lizzie laughed, feeling Dave slip a strong arm around her, once again leaning against him as she realized, happily, that she got to do that for the rest of her life.

"I'll just gather up your Daddy and the boys and ya'll can be on your way," Anne nodded, waving a come hither hand toward her husband, drawing his attention away from the group of men gathered in the corner attempting to hide from their wives.

And minutes later, their goodbyes said, Dave bustled Lizzie out of the house, his arm firmly around her waist as they dodged the many well wishers intent on pelting them with rice. "Where in the world are you in such an all-fired hurry to get to, Dave?" Lizzie asked as they escaped around the corner, raising an eyebrow at him as he hustled her towards the waiting black SUV. "I don't see no fires."

"As you seem awfully fond of telling me on a regular basis, that's for me to know and you to find out," Dave grinned widely, opening the door and swinging her up effortlessly into the passenger seat.

"But Dave," Lizzie whined as she flopped against the seat, batting her eyelashes as she smiled sweetly at the man she now called husband, "I can't just be whippin' off to God only knows where! I'm not even packed!"

Leaning over her to slip her seatbelt into place over her satin dress, Dave pressed a kiss to her pursed lips, unable to resist the simple treat. "Just trust me, Elizabeth. I can guarantee you that you're gonna enjoy it."

"That's what you told me to get me under the covers last night," Lizzie retorted, her fingers wrapping around his tie and pulling him back, pressing a kiss of her own to his lips, savoring the temptation.

"And was I wrong?" Dave grinned, tilting her head, deepening the kiss, still amazed at how just simply kissing this woman could make him feel.

Hearing her moan against his lips as he finally pulled away, Dave placed a final peck on those full lips as he said, wriggling his eyebrows, "We've got to get going, honey, or we'll miss the plane."

"What's so all-fired important that we have to fly out so quickly?" Lizzie demanded loudly as he slammed her door and moved around to the driver's seat. Watching him speed down the long, crowded drive, she turned to face him as she tugged on her full dress, "Come on, Dave! I don't like surprises! You know that!"

"No, babe, you love surprises," Dave corrected her, glancing down at the dashboard clock, mentally calculating the time and distance he still needed to cover. "What you don't like is being left out of the planning."


	100. Chapter 100

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred**

For the entire thirty minute drive to the small Piermont airport, no amount of questioning , cajoling, or unwarranted threats could get Lizzie her answers, her new husband insistent on holding his cards close to the vest. Shading her eyes as he parked and helped her out of the SUV, she stared at the small plane waiting on the small runway. "That's not the same plane we took down here, Dave. Is it gonna fly us back to 'lanta?"

"Uh uh, babe," Dave shook his head, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as he propelled her toward the short steps, sweeping the train of her gown over his arm as he propelled her up the short steps. "Not gonna answer any questions, remember?"

"But I'm not packed!" Lizzie exclaimed as she stopped on the second metal steps, looking on as two men she didn't recognize unloaded multiple suitcases from the SUV and moved them to the luggage bay of the airplane.

"Yes, you are," Dave assured her as he pressed his hand against her lower back, leading her into the cabin of the Gulfstream. "And anything you don't have, we'll buy when we get there."

"And where is "there", exactly?" Lizzie asked sweetly, hoping to find her answers.

"Nice try, babe. Just be patient and you'll find out soon enough," Dave replied with a roll of his eyes.

Peering around the leather interior, her eyes widening as she took in the glass bottle sunk into a bucket of ice, she whispered, turning quickly to run right into his solid chest, "Dave! Someone's already on this plane!"

Dropping his hands against her hips to steady her, Dave shook his head as he dropped a quick kiss to her perfect lips. "No, Babe, I assure you that there isn't. Now," he said, gently turning her, "in that bathroom just ahead is a change of clothes for you. As beautiful as your wedding dress is, I don't think you want to wear it the entire flight. And knowing you, you'd end up spilling something on it and I know you want to save it for our little girl. So, I suggest you go change," he directed, patting her satin covered backside gently.

Pursing her lips, Lizzie couldn't fault his logic. She _did _want her daughter to use this dress again, just like her mother and grandmother before her had used it. And she _was _a little uncomfortable, the corset not exactly something she was accustomed to wearing on a daily basis. "Fine," she snapped, gathering her full skirt as she moved down the aisle, "but, when I get back out here, I'm gonna want some answers."

"Uh huh, you usually do," Dave sighed, watching as her shapely body sashayed up the plane. Damn, she was a beauty, he thought as he leaned against a seat, content to spend the rest of his life just watching her. Creamy skin and dark red hair cascading down the graceful line of her back…what a picture. She'd stolen his breath when he'd watched her enter the church this afternoon. Her bright green eyes had met his from the back of the church and he'd known that if he hadn't already been a goner, he was at that moment.

She'd gotten her dream wedding and he'd gotten a woman that he'd cheerfully spend the rest of his life trying to stay a step ahead of. And if he hadn't already realized it, her father had taken a great deal of joy in reminding him of that fact in a stolen moment at the church. He'd received the not unexpected threats from the dignified man and stern orders to take care of his baby girl. And that's exactly what he intended to do. Starting now.

A few minutes later, he heard the Gulfstream's engines start and he looked at the still closed bathroom door. "Honey, we're getting ready to take off. Come on out," Dave called, reaching up to pull his tie loose, letting the pieces of fabric hang loosely as he unbuttoned the top buttons on his shirt.

"Would you just hold your horses?" Lizzie called back tartly as she fastened a metal button, still amazed at the way the pencil thin jeans fit over her like a second skin. Lord, who'd picked out these clothes? Looking in the small mirror, she couldn't deny that she looked good, the fitted yellow shirt highlighting her red hair and green eyes. And the soft flats were comfortable. After wearing skirts and dresses all week, being back in jeans felt odd, almost sinful. Casting a glance at her hanging wedding dress, she smiled, touching the material reverently for a moment, letting her fingers linger against the fabric as she realized that she would never wear that dress again.

"Elizabeth!" Dave called impatiently, his voice floating through the metal door.

Lord have mercy, he already sounded like a husband. "I'm comin'," she hollered back, jerking open the door. Stepping out, she held her hands aloft, "Happy now?"

Swallowing tightly as he looked at the transformation standing pertly in front of him, Dave muttered, "Very. Very happy." Damn. If he had thought she was a vision in that satin wedding dress, he was definitely at a loss for words now. Those jeans and that tiny shirt looked like she had been poured into them, every amazing curve and sway highlighted. And if that yellow fabric rode up any more, he was not going to be responsible for his actions, that tiny patch of skin tantalizing him.

Forcing himself to bring his eyes back up to hers, his body more interested in keeping its current focus, he smiled at her questioning look. Reaching out his hand, he pulled her forward as he gently pushed her onto the leather couch as he dropped beside her.

Slapping at his hands as he moved to slip her seatbelt in place, Lizzie grabbed the metal pieces, snapping them in sharply as she felt the engines roar again underneath them. "Okay, Dave, start talking. I want answers, buster, and you're the one's who's got them."

"Pushy little thing, aren't you?" Dave grinned, snapping his own belt in place as he reached for the phone on the side table. "Give me just a minute, babe, and everything will become clear."


	101. Chapter 101

_**Author's Note: Guys, I'm gonna take tomorrow off from posting and do some writing. I'll post again on Thursday. Thank you for understanding. Again, thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, alerted or favorited our stories. We love hearing from you. As ever, we don't own Criminal Minds.**_

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and One**

"Yeah, clear as mud apparently," Lizzie muttered, leaning her head back against the unbelievably comfortable seat as she listened to him talk to what must be the pilot. Hoping to overhear just a hint of their destination, she was disappointed when he hung up the phone, the engines roaring loudly just seconds later as she felt the plane began to move faster and faster.

Feeling her tiny hand grip his as the plane left the ground, Dave grinned as he tucked their joined hands against his thigh. "Still not real thrilled about the take-off part, huh?"

"I'd be a lot better is SOMEONE would tell me where this plane is flying to," Lizzie retorted, letting him pull her closer as she leaned against his shoulder. Honestly, just sitting still seemed like a miracle, after the hubbub of the day they had had. But, she thought with a grin, her mama got the beautiful wedding she wanted, and by golly, she got her husband.

Glancing around the gorgeous cabin of the plane, she added then, shaking her head, "And honestly, Dave, how much does this thing cost? It's a dadburned flying Taj Mahal!"

"Trust me, babe, it's worth every penny," he grinned down at her face, dropping a light kiss to her lips as the plane started to level slightly. "After that puddle jumper from Atlanta that we took to get to Piermont, I wasn't going to risk another one of those disasters."

The faint buzz of the phone caught her attention again, but after only five seconds, Dave hung the receiver up as he reached over and popped her belt. "Pilot says we're clear right now. No need for belts if we don't want them." Slipping out of his tux jacket, he threw it carelessly on the side seat as he pulled off his tie, reaching for the chilling champagne.

But he suddenly felt himself pulled backwards, tiny hands grabbing tightly to his belt loops. Dropping back into the seat he had just vacated, he met narrowing green eyes as Lizzie slapped her hands to his chest.

"Oh, no, David Rossi. You will not try to get me drunk until you start talking, do you hear me? I want to know where we're going, and you've got exactly five seconds to start talking before I march myself into that cockpit and find me a man that'll do the job!" Lizzie declared, her tone brooking no argument as she wrapped her fingers around the collar of his pristine white shirt.

Easily pulling her compact body into his lap, Dave shook his head as he grinned down into her glowering eyes. "You can't just sit back and enjoy the ride, can you?"

"I could if I knew where the ride would be stoppin'," Lizzie huffed, trying to squirm out of his lap as his fingers danced up her side, pulling her shirt higher and higher with each movement he made. And golly darn, she couldn't think when he touched her like that! Capturing his talented fingers as they slid insistently against her warm skin, Lizzie shook her head. "And don't go tryin' to distract me either!"

"You seemed to enjoy the way I distracted you early this morning," Dave grinned wickedly as he remembered the way he'd woken his bride just a few hours earlier. Shifting her closer, he tightened his arms around her as he wriggled his eyebrows, chuckling at the memory, "In fact, you were so thrilled, you almost allowed the entire house to hear you."

Smacking a firm hand against his chest again, Lizzie narrowed her eyes as she hissed, feeling her cheek heat under his gaze, "Not funny! If daddy'd have heard me, you wouldn't be sittin' here right now. It's bad enough that Ray knew!"

"I promise, Babe," Dave said, pressing a hand over his heart, sweeping a gentle finger against the flush rising up her delicate neck, "I had no idea anybody was in the bathroom. And I don't think I can be blamed when you were the one vocalizing your demands."

"I wouldn't have been making any demands if you'd have kept your hands to yourself," Lizzie retorted, smacking at his hand again as he started to trail a finger against the top button of her shirt.

"Honey, the one thing you can always count on is that if you're anywhere near, I'm never gonna be very good at keeping my hands to myself. And I happen to know for a fact that you enjoy having my hands on you," Dave countered, raising a brow as his tone dared her to disagree.

Pursing her lips, Lizzie settled against him as she shook her head, her curls bouncing as she pushed them out of her eyes. "We're gettin' off track here. You tell me right now where this bird is a'flyin' to, Agent Rossi. Right now!"

"How about," Dave whispered in her ear, sliding his hand against her bare back, grinning as he felt her shiver, "I give you a little hint."

"Oh, you can give me a little hint, big hint, or just go ahead and tell me flat out," Lizzie grumbled, arching her back against his cool fingers, her eyes sliding shut for a moment as she let herself enjoy his touch.

"We'll start with little and work our way up. And your first hint is mountains," Dave replied, tightening his grip when she started to pull away.

"That's it? Mountains? That's all your flappin' tongue can come up with?" Lizzie demanded, flipping her eyes open again and tightening her grip on his shoulders again as the plane dipped .

Nodding as he stared down into those brilliant emerald eyes that he had grown to love, Dave replied, his tone serious, "Mountains."

Pounding his chest with her balled fists, Lizzie yelled at the top of her small lungs, eyes flashing, "Honest to God, I don't care if you are my husband now or not, you fool. Do you have any idea how many places in this freakin' world have mountains?" Narrowing her eyes, she glared as she ordered, sharply, "I wanna 'nother clue!"


	102. Chapter 102

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Two**

Grasping her hands before she managed to assault him anymore, Dave grinned as he easily tilted her in his arms, capturing her lips with his. Long seconds later, he murmured against her flushed cheek, one hands cupping a perfect breast, "Seriously, babe, we could have been doing many other interesting things in these last ten minutes other than arguing about clues and destinations. Things that I know you like to do."

Shifting against him as she tried to catch her breath, Lizzie wrapped her arms around his neck as she pulled herself upright again, haphazardly straightening her shirt. Swallowing hard, she muttered, "I think not, Agent Rossi. I believe you still have some explaining to do. I don't cotton to being slung through the sky without havin' an idea where I'm gonna end up!"

Letting out a patient sigh as he realized his new wife was definitely not going to budge until she had her information, Dave reached into the side pocket of the seat and withdrew a glossy folder, pressing it into her hands. "Okay, babe, you wore me down."

"Oh! Now that's pretty!" Lizzie murmured, eyes widening as she stared down at the glossy picture in her hands, her eyes drawn to the gorgeous scene of a resort settled in what appeared to be rolling mountains in the background.

"Uh huh...and secluded. No phones. No interruptions. No people hovering in the bathroom right outside the bedroom door when I make you...."

Slapping a hand over his mouth, Lizzie whispered as she glanced frantically toward the door leading to the cockpit, "Hush! There are other people on this plane that I'm sure can live their whole livelong lives without knowin' just how I sound."

"But I love that sound, Elizabeth," Dave whispered with a wide grin, pressing his warm mouth to her neck as he drew in her amazing scent. "And I love the fact that only I get to make you sound that way more."

"Ahhhh," Lizzie sighed, unconsciously pressing closer to his chest as his mouth assaulted the tender side of her neck.

Hastily releasing buttons from loopholes, Dave palmed a lace covered breast in his hand as he trailed kisses across her jaw line. "Pictures of the cabin are inside the brochure, Babe. I think you'll approve."

Breathing more quickly as his thumb swept to and fro across her rucked breast, Lizzie tried to remember what they had been discussing just a few seconds earlier. "Brochure?" she muttered blankly.

Smiling against her ear, he reminded, "In your hand, Elizabeth."

Trying desperately to comprehend his words above the whirlwind her mind had become when he'd touched her, she dropped her eyes back to her hand absently. Oh, yes...honeymoon...brochure....they'd been talking about that, hadn't they? Covering his wandering hand with one of hers, she stilled his quest to bare her flesh as her mind suddenly regained some of its earlier sanity. "Stop that! We ain't alone up here!"

"Oh, I have it on good authority that those pilots are staying inside the cockpit where they belong, Beautiful," Dave whispered, dropping a kiss to her temple as he watched her turn the page of the pamphlet in her hands.

"Is that a hot tub?" she asked in amazement, lifting the colorful brochure closer to her face.

"On the balcony," Dave nodded, his hand slipping from hers as he continued his quest to help her lose all manner of clothing as expediently as possible.

"Balcony?" Lizzie jerked her head up, her face quizzical as she swatted, ineffectually, at his roaming hands. "You mean outdoors? Where God and everybody can see?"

"I'm sure the Almighty's gonna have a few other things on his agenda other than watching a husband and wife enjoy their honeymoon, Lizzie," Dave grinned, sliding his fingers around her tiny waist, walking up her spine until he reached the catch on her bra.

"But it's outdoors, Dave! And I know I didn't have a swimsuit at Mama's for somebody to pack in those darn suitcases!" Lizzie disagreed with a firm shake of her head.

"Honey, I don't think you'll be needing a swimsuit or anything else," Dave whispered in her ear, expertly flicking the closure on her bra. "You'd just be losing it anyway as soon as I got my hands on you."

"What!?" Lizzie yelped, scandalized by his obvious intentions. Swatting his chest with the heavy brochure, she declared, "Now listen here, David Rossi, it was one thing to do what we did at the swimmin' hole where I knew nobody could see us since it was darker'n a coal mine, but..."

"But it's going to be my pleasure helping you lose those inhibitions of yours, Mrs. Rossi. In fact, I intend on making it my mission," he murmured, turning to recline on the plush sofa as he pulled her leg over his.

"Seems to me, you already are," Lizzie muttered, quirking an eyebrow at him as she straddled his waist.

Sliding his hands around to cup her bottom, Dave urged as he tugged her closer, "Put the brochure away, Elizabeth and come down here and kiss your husband.

Eyes widening as she realized her shirt hung open, her breasts exposed to his hungry gaze, Lizzie wriggled on his lap as she yanked it closed. "What in the world do you think you're doin'?"

"My goal is to initiate my new wife to the joys of the mile high club," Dave explained patiently, removing her hands from her shirt and tugging her down to his mouth. "It's a very exclusive club."

"You mean you want to..." Lizzie replied breathlessly with wide eyes. "Here? Now?" she squeaked.

"Honey, I _always_ want to. But here and now is up to you," he said gently, lifting a hand to smooth over her cheek, still amazed that she had actually agreed to marry him.

"But there's no bed," Lizzie replied, looking around as if that piece of furniture would magically appear from underneath one of the seats.

"As I recall, we didn't have a bed our first time either," Dave chuckled, pulling her warm body down to his and cuddling her against his chest.

"I know...it seems we can't do _anything_ the traditional way," Lizzie muttered as she let herself relax against her husband, resting her hands on his chest.

"Face it, sweetheart, life is never going to be boring with me," Dave laughed against her neck.

Eyes sliding closed as she felt his hands start to slide around her, unbuttoning her jeans, Lizzie silently agreed. No, the man she'd married could be classified as anything but boring. "You sure those men will stay up front?" she murmured, unbuttoning his shirt as she rested her head against his shoulder, rubbing her cheek against his firm muscles.

Nodding solemnly as he felt her capitulation on the horizon, he pressed a kiss into her hair as he assured her, adding with a slight grin, "And, lucky for you, sweetheart, the cabin is soundproof."


	103. Chapter 103

_**Author's Note: We hope ya'll are still enjoyin' the ride. Let us hear from you! Thanks to everyone who has been reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting our stories. We hope you continue to enjoy! Look for the next chapter Sunday, readers. I'm taking a couple of days to write - I hope!**_

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Three**

Four hours later, Elizabeth Rossi was happier than she'd ever been as her new husband swept her into his arms, carrying her across the threshold of their own personal honeymoon retreat. Looking around the wide open room at her decadent surroundings, Lizzie gasped. "Good Lord! How big a television does somebody need?" she asked blankly as she stared at the plasma screen covering almost a whole wall.

Moving deeper inside the room, Dave laughed at the sight of her widened eyes. Dropping her back to her feet in the foyer, he patted her back, letting his fingers linger against her narrow waist. "Go explore, honey, while I tell the bellboy where to but our bags." Watching as she all but scampered off, Dave turned to the man behind him, handing him a bill. "Just put our things in the bedroom."

Nodding appreciatively at the large tip, the bellboy murmured, "Your champagne is chilling on the terrace, sir. Please call the desk if you need anything else."

Nodding absently, Dave trailed behind his excited wife, completely ignoring the sound of the closing door. God, she looked truly happy as she flitted from room to room, oohhhing and ahhhing over every amenity, large and small.

"Dave! Look at the size of the tub," Lizzie gasped in amazement, sticking her head into the bathroom.

Peering around her small body, he laughed at the look of shock and joy on her bright face. "Honey, obviously you didn't pay attention during your time at Little Creek. We've got a tub like that in our master bathroom," he replied, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him.

"Really?" Lizzie asked over her shoulder, wriggling her hips against him as she settled closer.

"Really," Dave said softly, dropping a gentle kiss against her ear as his hands spanned her hips.

"It just seems unreal that I'm going to be living in that big ole mansion you call a cabin," Lizzie murmured, resting her head against Dave's chest as she nestled into his arms.

"Well, trust me, babe...you aren't living anywhere else," Dave grunted. "I worked too damn hard getting you married to me."

Smiling up at him over as she tilted her head, Lizzie replied tartly, "A little hard work never hurt a single soul I know of."

Chuckling, Dave dropped the bag he'd grabbed from the bed just inside the door, snaking his arms back into place, unable to resist the charms of her warmth. "Well, since you like that tub so much, why don't you climb on in and take a nice hot bath while I shower and return a couple of phone calls, hmm??"

Looking longingly at the tub, Lizzie nodded as she felt herself grinning. "That actually sounds heavenly," she breathed appreciatively, her eyes landing for a moment on the assortment of gels tucked into the basket in the corner.

"Thought you might like the idea," Dave grinned as he reluctantly loosened his arms. "Okay, give me my kiss and I'll let you get on with it."

Turning in his arms, Lizzie tilted her head. "Haven't you gotten enough of my kisses today?" she teased, twining her arms around his strong neck, her fingers tickling the edge of his hair.

"Oh, Elizabeth, I've got a lot to teach you, don't I? Lesson one, babe, there's not any such thing as too many kisses. Ever," he breathed, bending to capture her lips in an erotic caress.

Looking dazedly up at him as he finally pulled away, she breathed, finding her legs a bit weaker than she remembered just minutes ago, "You know, I'd be willing to share my bath."

"Trust me, honey, if I get in that tub with you, there won't be any bathing OR relaxing going on," Dave grinned as he dropped another kiss against her beautiful mouth. "But I promise, I'll be joining you in there many times before we leave."

Nodding, Lizzie shoved him lightly, "Off with you then," she said happily. "I've got a swim to take."

An hour later, Dave pushed open the half-closed door to the master bathroom, grinning widely at the beautiful sight that was displayed before him. Damn, how had he lived his life without this amazing woman? Leaning against the doorframe, he shook his head as he murmured, "Honey, you think you've been in there long enough?"

Letting one eye drift open, a very relaxed Elizabeth Rossi focused on her husband for a bare second before she closed her eye again, leaning back against the sloped tub in decadent splendor. Tucking a loose curl back into the messy ponytail at the back of her head, she said, lazily, "I'm relaxin', Dave. Isn't that what you told me to do?"

"Glad to see you took my advice," he answered, grinning widely as he felt his body respond to the vision before him. Pushing off the doorframe, he stepped across the marble floor, feeling his body tighten with every step he took. The overhead skylight flicked just enough sun through to cast a fading orange glow in the room, bouncing off the rippling water in all the right places. Perching on the edge of the oversized Jacuzzi, he trailed a slow finger through the top of the water, gently sliding across the water line just under her long, graceful neck.

Shivering at his mere touch, Lizzie let herself sink a bit lower into the wonderful water as she slowly opened her eyes, staring up into his heated gaze. Rolling her shoulders as she pulled her leg up, she murmured, "You look like the cat that swallowed the canary, Dave."

"You're gonna turn into a prune in there, Beautiful," Dave warned with a chuckle, watching as she shimmied in the water again as his finger grazed her nipple.

"Am not," she drawled without opening her eyes. "This water stays warm," she said with a slow smug smile. "No wrinkling," she smirked.

"All right," Dave drawled, "Let me put it another way. Either you come out or I come in with you."

"Nuh uh," Lizzie grumbled as she tapped her toes against the top of the water, sending ripples of shimmer throughout the tub. "I extended an invitation earlier. You declined. Therefore, you wait until I decide to get out," she replied tartly, smacking his fingers away as he once again attempted to search for sunken treasure.


	104. Chapter 104

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Four**

"You mean you'd be vicious enough to lie there naked and tell me all I can do is watch?" Dave laughed as he captured her slippery fingers in his, still amazed that this woman had said "I do" just a few hours earlier.

"Just desserts," Lizzie shrugged easily, pulling her hand away from his as she leaned back against the inflatable bath cushion. "I'm not startin' my marriage off by lettin' you think you're always gonna get your way. My mama didn't raise no fool," Lizzie muttered, stretching languorously in the water.

"Hell, honey, if I'd have known the rules, I woulda joined you the first time you offered," Dave complained, hissing in a breath as she arched her back, her pert breasts breaking the surface of the water. "Now that was just cruel," he breathed, his eyes eating the view in front of him, begging silently for another treat.

"Lessons learned," Lizzie replied easily, deliberately sliding her foot along the edge of the oversized tub, the water rippling as she dropped it back into place. "Maybe you'll be a quicker study next time."

"I've created a monster," Dave muttered, mostly to himself as he watched her supple body stretch, his eyes drawn to the glistening glimpses she was maliciously giving him.

"Oh, I wouldn't be claimin' all the credit up there, Mr. High and Mighty," Lizzie teased, trailing a wet finger across his forearm, momentarily grateful he had rolled up his sleeves earlier. "I might not have known all the ins and outs of this being married thing, but my Mama raised me to speak my mind. I don't think I've been too shy about hidin' that little fact from you or anyone else." Leaning her head back, she dropped her hand back into the water as she added, eyes closing again, "But if you're awfully nice to me, I might see my way clear to let you make it up to me later."

"Well," Dave drawled, biting back the laughter that threatened to erupt at his wife's antics, barely resisting the urge to scoop her out of that water and ravish her for hours, "I guess since I can't tempt you with those amazing things that I can do to your body, you probably won't be interested in knowing that there's a five course meal waiting on us." Pausing for a moment as she merely shifted in the water, he added, knowing that he held the trump card for last, "With chocolate triple mousse for dessert."

Flicking open her eyes slowly as she felt the familiar rumblings in her tummy at the thoughts of chocolate, Lizzie narrowed her gaze at him as she demanded, "Prove it."

"What the hell?" Dave muttered, jerking his head toward her, his eyes widening at that simple demand.

"You heard me, Rossi," Lizzie said determinedly, sinking slowly to warm her body again. "I don't trust you further than I can throw you. You're slicker than a greased hog, and I think you'll pull all manner of stunts to get me where you want me." Waving a hand in the direction of the door, she demanded, "So prove it. Show me the chocolate and then we'll do some negotiatin'"

"Are you kidding me, woman?" Dave asked with a incredulous grin, unable to resist tracing a finger against the swell of her breast, that simple action causing his body to ratchet up another gear.

Sitting up partially in the tub, Lizzie pointed to her face as she slapped at his roaming hand. "Do I look like I'm jokin'. This girl," she said firmly, jabbing her finger toward herself, "never pokes fun at chocolate!"

"Oh for the love of God," Dave groaned, pushing himself off the side of the tub as he stomped toward the door. "Now I know I really love you. You've got me running errands for you like a damn maid," he grumbled to himself as much as to the woman that he loved. Her laughter followed him all the way to the bedroom, and as he looked at the silver dish, he deliberated leaving her sitting there. That would be her just desserts, now wouldn't it? But, damn, she had a gorgeous body. And hell, who was he kidding? Even looking at it was a treat.

With a heavy sigh he grabbed the glass dish and the spoon and headed back to her watery sanctuary. Walking back through the door, he waved the dish at her. Plopping back down on the edge of the tub, he spooned a bit of the chocolate goo and held it aloft. "All right, babe, come and get it."

Staring back at him with sultry eyes, she slowly sat up in the water and splashed her way toward him. Closing her mouth around the silver spoon, she groaned as the rich taste flooded her tongue. "Sweet Lord, that's good!" she moaned.

"Amen," Dave whispered, his eyes glued to her languid body, the drops of water glistening on her pale skin. Offering her another bite, he forced his eyes back to her face as he muttered, "One day your gonna have to explain your affinity for bathrooms to me, honey."

"Someday, but not today," Lizzie agreed, wrapping her lips around the spoon again, swallowing deliciously at the stunning taste.

And minutes later as the silver spoon scraped the bottom of the dish, Dave grinned. "All right, Elizabeth, you've had your treat," he said huskily, watching her lick her pink lips. "Now I want mine. You coming out or am I coming in?" he asked, shifting uncomfortably against the fiberglass of the tub, his pants exponentially tighter as he watched her naked body glide toward him in the water.

Cocking her head at the man she'd married, she asked as she rolled her shoulders, "Aren't you hungry, Dave. You've barely eaten anything since breakfast."

"Absolutely famished," Dave murmured, eyeing her body hungrily, his thoughts already veering toward what he'd like to devour about her first. "But, unfortunately for you, the only thing that'll sate my particular hunger is right here in front of me."

Smiling as his words flowed around her and she identified the predatory gleam in his eyes, Lizzie held out her arms, smiling mischievously. "Help me out?"

Dropping the empty bowl on the tile floor with a clatter, Dave reached for his wife, pulling her damp body quickly against him as he lifted her over the side of the tub.

Burying her face against his warm neck, she muttered as she leaned languidly against his strong body, "I'm gettin' you all wet."

Reaching for a heated towel from the rack, Dave dried her back quickly, muttering as he swept the terry cloth against every inch of her delectable body, "Doesn't matter. Won't be dressed long enough to care."

Gasping as he quickly swept her into strong arms, her arms automatically snaked around his neck as she snuggled closer. Pressing a sweet kiss against his cheek as he carried her into the obscenely large bedroom, Lizzie whispered, the words sneaking out before she even gave them conscious thought, "I love you."

And Elizabeth Grace Winstead Rossi knew that truer words had never been spoken. For the first time in her life, she knew that she was completely, devotedly, and amazingly in love with a man. No, she told herself, not just any man. She was in love with this man. And she never wanted it to end.


	105. Chapter 105

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Five**

"You know," Dave murmured, lowering her to the bed and gently sweeping damp tendrils of hair away from her face as he stared down at her, "I think that's the first time you've said that to me without any prodding."

Grabbing the collar of his linen shirt and tugging his face down to hers, Lizzie smiled as she murmured, her hands wrapping around his neck, "I reckon that's one of those things that I'm gonna have to work on."

"Say it again," Dave demanded softly, dipping his head to nibble on her neck, his heart feeling particularly warm at that moment, her words still ringing in his ears.

"Oh!" Lizzie moaned, arching against him as his talented mouth found a particularly weak spot that she had never known she had until he had first explored it. "I-I love you," she breathed as his tongue swept along her collarbone.

"Again," Dave ordered huskily, bending his head to take a ripe breast between his lips as his hands swept over her warm body.

"I - oh, sakes alive," Lizzie gasped, her eyes widening as his wonderful lips tugged at her nipple, "I can't think when you do those things to me!" she said hoarsely, burying her fingers in his dark hair. Biting her lip as she watched his dark head shift to her other breast, she whispered, almost reverently, "I love you, David."

Lifting his head to stare down at the beautiful woman he'd married this afternoon, he replied seriously, "And I love you, Elizabeth Rossi. This marriage might have began as a comedy of errors, but the joke is going to be on everyone else. I promise you that."

Nodding as she swallowed tightly, Lizzie slid her hands down his chest, releasing the tiny white buttons of his shirt. "It doesn't feel like no laughing matter between us now, does it?"

Hissing in a breath as her nails raked his naked chest, Dave shook his head. "I'm certainly not laughing up here," he bit out, reminding himself that he had to remain in control if he wanted to make love to his wife on their wedding day.

Lifting her hips to rub against him, Lizzie lifted her head to press her lips against his. "David," she moaned raggedly as that desperate ache built in her abdomen as their lips separated. "I need you," she whispered against his cheek as her tiny hands pushed insistently at his trousers.

Kissing her quickly before he stood and stripped, he smiled as her eyes widened. He was fairly certain he'd never tire of that wide-eyed innocence of hers. It was bewitching. "Honey," he reminded her, winking, "you've seen me naked before."

"I know," Lizzie whispered, shimmying against the amazing king-sized mattress. "And it always shocks me. I still can't believe you and I fit together," she whispered as he lowered his body over hers again, his weight welcome.

"I plan on us fitting together frequently for many, many years to come, Elizabeth," Dave whispered against her ear as his hands slid down her narrow waist, settling against her perfect hips.

"S-so, you think I'm doin' alright performin' my wifely duties?" Lizzie asked nervously, biting back a moan as she felt him nudge her, that simple motion never ceasing to thrill her to her core.

Lifting her thigh as he slowly slid inside her perfect warmth, Dave groaned, "Honey, that implies that you think making love with me is a job to be performed." Slowly, stroking into her as he rolled onto his back, pulling her astride him, he asked, staring up into her brilliant gaze, "Does this feel like a job to you?"

Bracing her small hands against his broad chest as she settled around his throbbing length, Lizzie shook her head mindlessly, all conscious thought suddenly slipping from her mind. "N-no! Oh, Lord, no!"

Wrapping warm hands around her hips, Dave nodded against the pillows as he whispered, "Then let's not call it a duty. But for the record, no woman has ever brought me the pleasure you do, baby," he murmured, lifting a tender hand to cup her cheek as he stared into her bright emerald eye.

Squirming on top of him, Lizzie bobbed her head in agreement. "Dave," she whispered uncertainly, staring down at him as her hands slid against his chest, "I don't know what to do up here."

Feeling her soft walls surround him, Dave gently rolled her hips, guiding her movement and forcing his manhood a little deeper into her wet depths. "Just like that, sweetheart. You're in control here."

"But I like it when you're in control," Lizzie gasped as the friction between their body ratcheted up her desire and her nails dug into his chest.

"Honey, I guarantee that you'll love this," Dave promised deeply, swallowing hard. Guiding her, he huskily whispered, "Lift yourself up and lower yourself back down on me, Babe."

Eyes falling closed as she felt his hands lifting her and guiding her back down over his length, Lizzie released a pleasured whimper as his thumb skated over that sweet button inside her that was his alone. "Dave!"

Groaning deeply as he felt those tight walls enclose around him again, Dave threw his head back against the pillow, bending his legs to support her back. "That's it, Honey," Dave bit out encouragingly as her body seemed to recognize the pleasure those movements could bring them. "Just like that," he breathed, lifting his head to pull one of her heavy breasts into his mouth.

In all her twenty-six years on the face of this earth, she'd never known that two people could make each other feel such amazing pleasure like this. His touch seemed to be everywhere at once, teasing and stroking her on the inside and outside. As his heated mouth wrapped around her, flicking her, Lizzie felt that bubbling pleasure rise to the surface again, that wave of desire overtaking all conscious thought. Burying her hands in his hair as she held on for dear life, she couldn't stop herself from chanting his name.

"Dave! Dave, oh God Almighty, Dave!"

Hearing her screaming his name at that exact moment that her sweet walls contracted around him only spurred him forward, pushing him toward his own fulfillment. Groaning as he felt his release flood over him, his mouth found hers, silencing her screams in the sweetest way possible.

Finally opening her eyes, minutes after she had collapsed weakly on his chest, Lizzie stared up into his darkened gaze as she whispered, weakly, "Will it always feel like this?"

Dropping his hand down her bare back, stroking her spine in slow, sensuous movements, Dave smiled at her serious expression. "I'll do my damnedest to make sure it does, babe."

"It seemed different this time," Lizzie murmured, her chin resting on his chest as she sprawled on top of him, her fingers tracing mindless paths against the muscles in his arm.

His hand stilling at her words, Dave asked carefully, "Different good or different bad? Was it too much?" Raising up quickly and pulling her with him, he tilted her chin as he asked, concerned, "Did I hurt you, babe?"

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Lizzie shook her head, her eyes widening, "Oh, gracious, no! That felt wonderful, Dave!"

Eyes narrowing as he settled back against the pillows, he asked, seriously, "You know you can tell me, Lizzie, to stop. I'm not going to do anything that…"

"Would you just hush up and listen to me?" Lizzie rolled her eyes as she slapped her tiny hand over his mouth. Propping up on his chest, she tapped a finger against his lips as she said, "I wasn't complaining, Dave. I was trying to say that it felt better this time than ever before."

Pressing a kiss to her hand as he shifted it away, Dave met her smile as he pulled her up his body. "Maybe it's because we didn't have any worries about interrupting phone calls, unexpected visitors, or various woodland creatures finding us this time, honey." Pressing a kiss to her chin, he added, eyebrows wriggling, "Or maybe it has something to do with the fact that we love each other."

"Well, whatever it is," Lizzie whispered as he rolled them slightly, snuggling against his warm body, "I'm all for keepin' it up."

A yawn suddenly escaped her beautiful lips, and Dave grinned down at her rueful expression. "I think I've worn you out, babe."

"Not much of a way for a bride to be actin' on her honeymoon," Lizzie muttered, dropping her eyelids as she felt him reaching for the covers at the end of the bed.

"I think our honeymoon's off to a perfect start, Elizabeth," Dave whispered in her ear as he snuggled them both beneath the covers, her body wrapping around him perfectly. "And so is our marriage. We've already proved we're compatible, honey. We've got nothing to worry about."


	106. Chapter 106

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Six**

And for next three months, Lizzie believed those words completely, falling into living the life of a married woman with glee. Living with Dave had turned out to be a whole lot easier than she had been expecting, once she whipped him and that house of his into shape. In comparison, taking over his life had been far easier than managing that mansion that she now called her home.

It had only taken her a week to realize that those so-called maids of his didn't know a dust bunny from a dishrag. So, taking his words to heart when he repeatedly told her that the house was hers to do with as she pleased, she fired those sorry excuses for cleaners, and took on the job herself.

Which had led to their first full-blown, knock-down, drag out fight. To her way of thinking, it wouldn't have been nearly the conniption fit he made it out to be if he had just listened to her in the first place. But, no such luck.

Was it her fault he had come home early from a week-long case and found her hanging over the top of the two-story banister, duster in hand as she reached for the ceiling fan? Honestly, it was obvious that thing hadn't seen an ounce of Pledge since God was boy! And she had one foot and hand firmly on the railing! But after they both had finally quit yelling at each other and he had his say, she politely informed him that her Mama had cleaned a house by herself for fifty something years without ever relying on overpaid, outside help, and by golly, so could she.

But that infuriating man she'd married had managed to use her body against her, carrying her off to bed and convincing her at her most vulnerable moment to agree to his way of thinking. Which she had done, reluctantly allowing another cleaning service to come back on the job. But only after she'd given a room-by-room, one-on-one training of exactly how she intended her house to be kept.

But in the scheme of things, the minor skirmish with the cleaning crew aside, the past three months had been the happiest of her short life. Dave was attentive, loving, and intent on making her happy, no matter what. Outside of her father, she had never felt safer than she did than when she was with him.

Her moments of daydreaming and woolgathering came to a quick end as she heard someone calling her name. Smiling up at the sound, she cocked her head as she saw Penelope coming her way, the brightly cheerful woman lighting up the normally dull FBI bullpen.

"Lizzie, didn't you hear me, girl?" Penelope grinned as she stopped at the redhead's desk, leaning against the edge as she waiting for the new Mrs. Rossi to meet her eyes.

"Just thinking for a moment," Lizzie murmured, reaching for her notepad, glancing up at her friend with a shy grin.

"Oh, I can guess about what," the technical genius wriggled her eyebrows as she added, knowingly, "Is he tall, dark, handsome, and the reason you wear that ring on your finger?"

"Now, Penny," Lizzie said firmly, whacking her friend's arm with her notepad as she felt her cheeks start to warm, "I'm not gonna…."

"Oh, give it up, girl," Penelope rolled her eyes as she reached for a peppermint candy out of Lizzie's candy dish. Glancing up then, she whistled lowly, an appreciative sound, "And don't look now, but here comes the FBI's answer to Brad Pitt!"

"Who?" Lizzie said blankly, the clattering noise of the bullpen surrounding them as she looked toward the glass doors, a tall, blonde haired man in a suit heading their way.

"Him," Pen said in a drawn out tone, nodding toward the young attractive man walking toward them. "Agent Bootylicious, aka, Agent Nigel Barnes."

Glancing in the direction, her friend indicated, Lizzie shrugged. "Oh, him."

"That's what you have to say about that tall drink of water," Pen whispered incredulously, turning her wide eyes toward her young friend. "Oh, him?" she mimicked. "Are you blind, woman?"

"No," Lizzie replied patiently. "I'm married. And very much in love with my husband," she shrugged, bending to pick up a piece of paper she'd dropped. "And you, my little friend, are in a committed relationship as well," she said, pinching Pen's arm as she straightened. "Put your eyes back in your head where they belong."

"Lizzie, honey, we're committed. NOT dead," Pen said, smiling widely as she waved toward Agent Barnes, drawing his attention in their direction.

Mentally groaning, Lizzie fought against rolling her eyes. Agent Barnes was nice enough she supposed. He only came around every few months. Something about undercover assignments, she recalled from snippets of conversation she had heard among the agents. But, personally, she'd never quite seen what the other girls in the office did...even before she'd fallen head over heels for David Rossi. Unlike her husband, Agent Barnes was a flirt, his eyes often lingering a little too long on all the girls on the floor. And while most of them didn't mind, she very much had. And, unfortunately, that had only made the man more interested. Apparently, he was extremely fond of reaching out for the unattainable.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" the man in question said with a charming smile, coming to a stop in front of Lizzie's well-ordered desk. "Two beautiful women in one place. Is it my birthday?"

"Well, aren't you just the sweet talker," Penelope laughed, grinning at the male agent with unbridled glee.

"Now, Ms. Garcia," Agent Barnes said smoothly, leaning against Lizzie's desk as he glanced between the women. "I only speak the truth. And I can truthfully say that it is a pleasure to be back at the BAU if I get to spend time with such charming visions as you two."

"Sounds to me like someone's been sippin' a bit too much of the sassafras," Lizzie muttered under her breath as she tucked her notepad over her chest.

"I'm sorry, my dear," Barnes murmured, leaning closer as his eyes roamed over Lizzie's beautiful body, "I didn't quite hear that."

"Maybe you'd better listen a bit closer next time," Lizzie answered, smiling sweetly in his direction. "That's why God gave us two ears and one mouth, Agent Barnes. He intends on us listenin' twice as much as we go around yappin' all the time."

"Perhaps you have a point, Lizzie," Barnes nodded, his tone serious but his eyes laughing. "It would be my pleasure to spend some time with you this evening, perhaps at dinner, where I would have the opportunity to listen to you without any distractions whatsoever."

Her mouth open to immediately object, Lizzie snapped it shut as another agent called for Barnes, waving him over. Smiling, the man winked at her as he said, smoothly, "I'll be coming back by later to arrange a time for that dinner."

"I don't think…." Lizzie started, only to watch his back walk across the clattering bullpen. "Well," she said, shaking her head at the infuriating man, "That was a waste of good lungpower, now wasn't it?"

"Lizzie," Penelope exclaimed, her eyes wide as saucers, "You just got asked out by the BAU BoyToy!" Then she paused, her grin growing by the second as she whistled, "Oh, what I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall when Agent Rossi gets wind of this!"


	107. Chapter 107

_**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting this story. I'm extremely grateful and truly appreciate hearing from each of you. I'm going to try and get some writing done tomorrow, so, the next post will be Friday. Thanks!! As ever, we don't own Criminal Minds.**_

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Seven**

Rolling her eyes at her friend, Lizzie scooted her away from her desk as she said, firmly, "There's nothing to worry about. Agent Barnes is just a big windbag and he's totally harmless. He'll have forgotten all about little ol' me before you can say Jumpin' Jehosophat." Walking with Penelope toward the conference room, she added, breezily, "And besides, Dave knows he has nothing to worry about. I'm fully intendin' on livin' up to my vows 'til one of us hits the ground in a pine box."

Unfortunately, however, Lizzie's earlier assumptions about her husband's level of anxiety regarding the other man was sadly underrated. In the last several months, David Rossi had found a vast number of attractive qualities in his wife. One of the most giving and generous women he'd ever met, he'd learned that she met each day with a sunny optimism that was unparalleled in the western world.

But if there was one thing he wished he could hammer through Elizabeth Rossi's hard head, it was that, in spite of her objections to the contrary, men found her beauty, sparkle and wit a rare combination....and it attracted them like moths to a flame. He'd caught more than one man casting her an appreciative glance. And it bothered him. In fact, it bothered the hell out of him. Primarily, because his wife, in all her naiveté, couldn't recognize her own allure. And if she couldn't recognize it, she couldn't protect herself from lascivious predators.

He'd tried to explain the problem. Multiple times. But in typical Lizzie fashion, she'd rolled those gorgeous eyes at him and told him that while she appreciated his active imagination in the privacy of their own bedroom, the office was no place to take it out for a spin. Then, she'd gone on to say something about making mountains out of molehills. Inevitably, that's the point in this continuing argument where either he'd reach for the scotch or she'd reach for him. Either way, he'd quickly lose his train of thought.

Until today. Today, David Rossi had reached the end of his rope. Because he was a man that could easily recognize lust. It burned in his eyes every time he looked at his beautiful wife. But more than that, his experience quite honed, he could see it in others. And as he stood staring down at the scene unfolding in the bullpen, he could see that Agent Nigel Barnes had a definitive gleam in his deceptive eyes. And it wasn't friendly interest. It was lust, plain and simple.

And David Rossi was not about to let anyone ogle his wife. It was about time that he made that very fact crystal clear.

Dropping into step with Lizzie as she reached the top of the steps, he murmured, his hand dropping to the small of her back, "I see you had a visitor."

Glancing up at her husband's unreadable face, Lizzie cocked her curly head as she answered, rolling her eyes, "Just another nuisance in my already busy day. I swear, every time Agent Barnes shows up in the office, I end up spending a whole day untanglin' the messes he creates in his paperwork. Somebody needs to teach that man how to fill out an expense report!"

"That's not all he needs to learn," Penelope grinned, stepping ahead of the couple as they entered the already-filled meeting room.

"Oh, give it a break, Penny," Lizzie waved her hand in the bright blonde's direction as she moved to her normal seat, waiting for Dave to pull out her seat like he always insisted on doing. "You're being a Nervous Nellie, my friend."

His hand stilling on the back of the chair as he watched his vivacious wife settle against the leather, Dave asked carefully, his eyes narrowing, "Something happen that I need to know about?"

"What's going on?" Morgan asked, his inquisitive eyes bouncing from person to person as he settled into his normally assigned spot at the round table. Turning to Garcia, he nudged her shoulder with his as he said, eyebrows wriggling, "Rossi's got that look in his eye. Tell me the deal, Sweet Thing, before he blows."

"Well," Penelope said with a wink as she leaned closer, her voice lowering conspiratorially, "It's like this. Evidently, Agent Dishy Deliciousness, aka..."

"Agent Barnes is back in the unit," JJ asked, eyes lighting up as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table in front of her as she brightened at the turn of the conversation.

"Really?" Emily perked up, dropping the file she'd been holding as she scooted closer to hear the dishy details.

"Would somebody explain to me the attraction to that guy?" Morgan snorted, throwing his pen on the table as he fell back into his seat, rolling his eyes at the women on his team.

"You just hate that he's a worthy competitor, Morgan," Emily laughed, grinning at the obvious look of dislike on the bald man's face.

"Anyway," Pen drawled out, waving a hand to draw her colleagues attention back to her, "it seems that he's developed a startling yen for our dear dimpled Lizzie," Penelope said, jerking her head toward Lizzie.

"Pardon?" Dave asked lethally, his hand dropped to rest heavily on his wife's narrow shoulder.

"Oh never mind her, Dave," Lizzie snorted, glaring at her friend, her eyes promising retribution at a later time. "She's just blowin' smoke out her windpipe."

"Oh, I beg to differ, my little Southern Peach," Pen laughed, shaking her head with a knowing smile. "That was a date Agent Hot Stuff asked you for. You were just too busy being you to notice."

"He did what?" Dave asked, his eyes narrowing on Garcia as he forced his hand to loosen its grip on Lizzie's shoulder, reminding himself almost belatedly that his wife bruised extremely easily.

"He wants to take your wife out on the town, Super Agent," Penelope giggled. "Seemed pretty persistent about it, too."

"Would you hush, Penny?" Lizzie asked impatiently, reaching up to grab her husband's hand before he could attempt any stupid stunts. "You're gonna get him in one of his surly moods and I don't feel like spendin' my day soothin' his ruffled feathers."

"Is she right, Elizabeth?" Dave asked, turning his gaze on his young wife, ignoring her grasping fingers. "Did this guy actually make a move on you?"

"Oh, please," Lizzie sighed, waving a dismissive hand in the air, "He was just blowing hot air like he always does. I'm sure he's asked every woman in the place with a beatin' pulse out to dinner at least once alre…"

"He asked you out to dinner?" Dave exploded, spinning Lizzie's chair with an angry flick of his wrist.

Staring up startled at her husband's face, which was obviously growing angrier by the second, Lizzie drew in a deep breath as she said, firmly, "Now, Dave, we've had this conversation before. This is not something I really want to share in front of our friends, seein' as how this is …."

"Oh, hell, no," Dave ground out, his hands dropping to the arms of her chair as he glared at his wife. "Not this time, Elizabeth. This time it's gone too far. I will not have …"

"Dave," Lizzie hissed, leaning forward to meet him nose to nose, "You're embarrassin' me! We're in the middle of a staff meeting!"

"Dammit, Lizzie, we wouldn't be in this position if you'd just listen to me for once," Dave growled, his eyes lingering on her for a bare second. Turning to Garcia, he asked, voice deadly, "Did you hear that bastard ask her out?"

Nodding, Penelope cast her eyes from husband to wife as she mumbled, sinking in her chair, "Sorry, little gumdrop, but he asked."

"And what did you tell him, Elizabeth?" Dave asked sharply, flashing his eyes back to his naïve wife.

"I didn't say anything! He walked away from me grinnin' like a Chestshire cat before I could get a word in edgewise," Lizzie snapped angrily, slamming her hands down on the arms of her chair. "But if you're accusin' me of any funny business..."

"I'm not accusing you of anything, damn it! But I'll take care of telling the son of a bitch you're unavailable since you obviously can't do it," Dave yelled as he pushed away from the table, storming toward the door with heavy footsteps.


	108. Chapter 108

******_Author's Note: Thanks again to everyone that is reading, reviewing, alerting or favoriting our stories. We truly appreciate hearing from each and every one of you in whatever way you choose to communicate. With ten ongoing stories, this will probably be the last post until Sunday afternoon/evening. Hopefully, we'll be able to bring back some quality chapters to you. As ever, we don't own Criminal Minds._**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Eight**

"Oh hell," Hotch groaned, rising quickly to follow Dave out of the room, seriously doubting his agent's ability to resolve this situation without bloodshed.

Unfortunately, Lizzie was quicker than her cautious cousin, sliding in front of the closed door as Dave reached for the brass handle. "Now, wait just a blasted minute, David! There ain't no sense in goin' out there and causin' a raucous."

"Get out of the way, Elizabeth," Dave bit out, seething, as he attempted to reach around her for the doorknob once again.

"No. Not until you go in your office and listen to me for a blamed minute," Lizzie insisted, flattening her hands against her husband's chest as she glared up at him.

"If you've got something to say, then talk, Lizzie," Dave growled.

"I said I wanted to do this in private, blast it," Lizzie hissed, stomping her foot as she tugged on his lapels.

Narrowing his eyes, Dave easily scooted her out of the way as he opened the door, then grabbed her hand as he stomped out onto the upper balcony. "If it's private you want, Lizzie, then it's private you'll get."

Watching as the obviously unhappy couple moved out of the conference room, Penelope's wide as saucer eyes met those of JJ's as she whispered, turning in her seat, "Do you think we could buy tickets to this little event?"

Shaking her long blonde hair as she blinked slowly, JJ murmured, "I think for safety's sake, it's best that we're gonna be in a completely different room. I have a feeling that only one Rossi is gonna come out of that office alive."

"Wanna place bets on which one?" Emily muttered, her widened eyes glued to the now closed door, listening closely for any sounds of World War III from the hallway.

"Oh, hell, Em, it's gonna be a one-sided fight" Morgan muttered, sinking back into his chair as he met Aaron Hotchner's dark eyes. "Hate to tell you, man, but your cousin's done met her match in that man. She may be hell on wheels, but he's gonna kick butts and take names now that somebody's done gone after his woman."

Turning as he heard her shut the door behind them, firmly ensconced in the privacy and safety of his office, Dave met his wife's deep green eyes as he snapped, "Okay, woman, you wanted to talk in private. Ain't another soul in sight. So talk."

"Darn it to blue blazes, Dave, do you have to act like a caveman every time I turn around?" Lizzie scolded, stomping toward where he stood in front of his desk, her heels sinking into the thick rug. "I'll thank you to remember that I'm not some hothouse flower you have to protect at every turn! I'm a big girl, and trust me, Agent Barnes ain't the first harmless gnat that I've had to smack away."

"In case you've forgotten, Elizabeth, we've had this same damn conversation many times before," Dave shot back, his jaw clenching as he stared down into her beautiful face. "That man is not harmless! And I'll be damned if he's gonna hit on my wife without me doing something about it!"

Eyes widening as she watched her agitated husband pace the length of his office, his jaw clenching wildly, Lizzie barely resisted the urge to scream. "That's right, you just said the operative word, you stubborn billygoat! First off, you owe me twenty five dollars and I happen to know for a fact that you didn't stop by the ATM this morning so I know you're runnin' low on funds. I'd suggest that you watch your language. I've told you more than once that I don't run on credit." Seeing him start to open his already too-active mouth, she raised her hand as she added, "Second, you hit the nail on the head! I'm YOUR wife, Dave! And I know for a bloomin' fact that I've never given you a reason to doubt me. But, let me take a second to remind you of what I'm not! I'm NOT your property and I'll thank you to remember it!"

"Goddamn it to hell, Elizabeth!" Dave shouted, his fists clenching at his side as he watched her hand wave in the air, the diamond ring he had slipped on her finger glittering suddenly. "You know good and fucking well that this hasn't got a damn thing to do with trust! This is about a slimy bastard that doesn't know how to take no for an answer!"

"Maybe he doesn't know we're married yet, Dave," Lizzie countered, wondering who had made her the voice of reason in their joined universe. "Maybe he's been away on one of those undercover thingamabobs. Did you think of that?"

"That ring on your finger," Dave said dangerously, pointing to her fluttering hand, "tells any decent kind of man EVERYTHING he needs to know."

"You mean THIS ring?" Yanking her hand up, the oversized diamond glittering in the fluorescent lights as the rays bounced off the gold band below, Lizzie narrowed her eyes as she asked, her voice lowering dangerously, "What do you think this ring tells people, Dave?"

"If you have to ask, then obviously we've got more problems than I thought," Dave shot back, his jaw tightening even more as he clenched his fist at his side. "I thought that wedding ceremony made it pretty clear that you belong to me now, Lizzie."

"Excuse me?" Lizzie snorted, dropping her hand to prop it on her hip as she stared up at her obviously mentally-impaired chauvinistic husband. "I may be a proud Southerner, but even I know that slavery flew out the window over a century ago, you addled fool. And I ain't about to be owned by anybody!"

"You know damn well what I mean, Elizabeth," Dave countered, his face set in stone.

"No, I'm sorry as blue blazes, Dave, but your mind's apparently on the fritz right now, 'cause you're about to drive me up the wall," Lizzie groaned, stomping her foot as she realized he wasn't about to back down. "I ain't now, later, or ever will be someone's piece of property, you hear me? That marriage license I put my John Hancock on was an agreement between me and you, not a title deed giving you all control. And if you think these rings make you my master," Lizzie added, her face flushing as her town growing darker by the moment as she raised her hand again, slipping the jewelry to the tip of her finger, "Then I can take care of that little problem right now, quick as a kitty in clover."


	109. Chapter 109

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Nine**

His eyes narrowing dangerously as he watched her fingers touch her rings, Dave took a step forward as he bit out, "I told you once, Lizzie, that you wouldn't like it if you …."

"If I did what, Dave?" Lizzie snapped back, her fingers sliding the rings to the tip of her fingers. "If I took them off? Why should it matter to you? You obviously don't think I'm livin' up to my end of the bargain, or we wouldn't be hashin' this out for the umpteenth time. I love you, God help me, but you're gonna drive me to drinkin' that awful scotch of yours if you don't start actin' like you've got the good sense God gave a goose!"

Crossing the room quickly as he noticed the angry gleam in her eyes, Dave swiftly covered her smaller hands with his, sliding her rings back down her finger. "Don't even think about it, Elizabeth," he said in a dangerously quiet voice. "And don't put words in my mouth that I didn't say."

"Then you best start sayin somethin' that makes a lick of sense," Lizzie snapped angrily, stomping her foot against the floor. "Otherwise, I'm gonna be forced to draw my own conclusions."

Sliding a weary hand down his face, Dave struggled to remain calm. He'd quickly found that when he got angrier, his wife matched him step for step, barb for barb, and he knew that wouldn't help right now. "Look, Elizabeth, I know you aren't a possession to be owned. But, I made vows to God and your family that I'd protect you. And that means that if you won't tell the young Agent Barnes to take a long walk of a short pier, then I will." Narrowing his eyes at her agitated face, he added waspishly, "Unless, of course, you're enjoying the attentions of a man that is NOT your husband. Is that it, Elizabeth? Perhaps, the younger agent has something you like?"

Quickly inhaling a breath, Lizzie took an involuntary step back at the physical jolt she felt from his words. "I can't believe you'd say that," she whispered, hurt mixing with disbelief in her words. "Are you sayin' that you think I led him on? Are you, David?" Lizzie asked, her voice rising as tears filled her green eyes. "Maybe you think I teased the other time, too, huh? Maybe you think I got what I deserved," she whispered, jerking back as he shook his head and reached for her. "Don't touch me!" she yelled angrily, turning as she ran into the bathroom connected to his office, slamming the door behind her.

"Elizabeth!" Dave yelled, stomping toward the door as he mentally chastised himself. Dammit, Rossi, how in the hell do you get yourself in these dilemmas? He damn well knew she was still fragile in that area, but had he backed down? Hell no. He'd just pushed her even farther, which, in his world, meant that she would shut down and shut him out. Like she was doing just now.

Pounding on the thick door, he called out, his voice repentant, "Lizzie, honey, let me in."

But, like the previous times he had found himself on the wrong side of one of Lizzie's bathroom doors, three by his count if he wasn't mistaken, he was met with silence. Automatically glancing over at the hinges on the door, he frowned as he realized that, this time, he was screwed. Those helpful pieces of hardware were on the interior, rather than exterior. Breaking and entering with a handy-dandy screwdriver was not going to save him this time.

"Honey," he called out, hoping to hell that no one chose to invade his office at this time, not relishing explaining to any of their team how his wife had locked him out once again. "Honey, let me in. You know I didn't mean it like that!"

But again, he was met with the annoying sounds of silence. Pressing his ear against the solid wood, he tried to listen for any sound, any signal of anything that would give him a clue. Nothing.

Jerking back, he felt his jaw clenching as he muttered to himself, "Dammit, she's gonna make me call maintenance. That's all I need. A whole crew of men in here hacking into the door my wife has locked herself behind."

But then his mind kicked back into gear and he stared down at the door knob. The door knob, which, if he remembered correctly, didn't lock. And seconds later, he pushed open the door and came face to face with his wife, who was sitting cross-legged on top of the small sink vanity, a crumpled tissue raised to her weeping eyes.

"Oh hell, Babe," Dave whispered, watching as a tear leaked down her flushed cheek, her blue eyes brightened with tears yet to fall. "Not tears." If there was one thing he hated more than fighting with his new bride, it was watching her cry.

"Go. Away!" Lizzie railed, wiping furiously at her eyes as she slammed her hand against the top of the vanity. Darn it! Why couldn't this idiot she'd married learn the sanctity of a closed bathroom door! Turning her eyes away from him, she snuffled as she snapped, "I have nothin' I wanna say to you!"

Closing his eyes, Dave drew in a deep breath as he prayed for the words that would dig him out of the deep hole of shit he currently stood in. "Well, I have something that I need to say to you," Dave said quietly without opening his eyes.

"Really?" Lizzie snapped angrily, shifting on the counter as she jerked her skirt around her legs. "More insults and accusations you wanna hurl at my head? Imagine that!"

Closing the bathroom door behind him, Dave leaned against the wood, simply staring across the room at his much younger, very beautiful wife. He knew he owed her an apology. But, damn if he knew where to start. He'd struck out because of his own insecurities. And, unfortunately, he'd scored a direct hit. But it was never the hit he'd intended to make with his hastily uttered words. "I'm an asshole," he muttered, staring down at the tiled floor, his shoulder bumping against the wall. "And what I just said out there was so far out of line that I ought to have my ass kicked."

"You expectin' me to disagree with you?" Lizzie asked tartly, sniffling as she dabbed at her eyes.


	110. Chapter 110

******_Author's Note: Good eve, all! A quick thank you to everyone that continues to read, review, alert and favorite our stories. Please, let us continue to hear from each of you. As always, we enjoy hearing your thoughts and feelings on our stories - even when you don't particularly agree with the plotline. In other news, I will soon be starting a discussion forum called, "Idle Chit Chat on Author's Corner", where, hopefully, we can come together and learn more about each other and the challenges each of us face in writing. Subjects could include, finding a beta, dealing with writer's block, etc. And I'm also hoping to do one to one focus threads with authors on all ships and all pairings where we learn about their stories and the challenges they face. I think this could be a wonderful place where unique people could come together and enjoy themselves. And I really want to gauge the level of interest out there. Please let me know what you think of this idea! I really want to hear from you. Thanks again!_**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Ten**

Smiling despite himself, Dave shook his head as he quickly cleared his face. "No, I'm not. Lizzie, I'm sorry. For the way I said what I said. But I'm never gonna be able to turn the other cheek when some bastard tries to take my wife from me."

"Well, you must be blinder'n a bat, you old fool, 'cause it's as apparent as the nose on your face that I ain't exactly missin'," Lizzie retorted, her curls bouncing as she shook her head at his foolishness. "And get this through your fool mind. I ain't a possession that can be taken. And for some reason that I'm beginnin' to doubt, I'm stayin' with you." She paused, then added, her words lethal, "For the moment."

"Honey, it's not you that worries me," Rossi said immediately, taking a step toward her huddled body, but stopping as she nailed him with another one of those tearful glares.

"Coulda fooled me," Lizzie hiccupped, reaching for another tissue from the box on the counter as she dropped the crumpled one in the trash basket. "I heard you, Dave. You can't go denyin' what came out of your mouth now."

"But I can apologize for it, Elizabeth," Dave murmured, once again kicking himself for putting his beautiful wife in this position. Unable to stop himself for reaching for her, he slid a hand against her knee, her skirt rumpled around her legs. Staring into her tear-stained face, he whispered, "Honey, what can I do to make you believe that I didn't mean it?"

"Stop this foolishness," Lizzie ordered, smacking a fisted hand against his solid chest as she glared into his dark eyes. "I haven't done nothin' to that man!"

Wrapping his hand around Lizzie nape, Dave tugged her head against his chest, sweeping his fingers through her curls. "I know that," he whispered against her hair, unable to resist tightening his arms as he let himself enjoy holding her. "But somebody needs to make it clear to Agent Barnes that a married woman is off limits. Lizzie, no man in your family or on our team would deny that, and you know it."

"I know you, Dave! You're gonna go down there and cause a horrible stink. I don't see no sense in causin' a scene. I'll make it clear to Agent Barnes if he comes back around that I'm off the market," Lizzie pleaded against his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist as she rubbed her cheek against his shirt. As much as she knew she was right, she also hated arguing with her husband.

Sighing heavily, Dave relented as he ran his hand down her narrow shoulders. "Fine. But I want your word that if he doesn't take the hint that you won't say a word when I get involved."

"Not a peep," Lizzie replied softly, lifting her head to meet her husband's dark eyes, pressing her hands against his chest. "I swear."

"Okay," Dave muttered grudgingly, still unhappy, but entirely willing to cede control to Lizzie if it meant no more tears. Rubbing her wet cheek with his palm, he whispered as he let himself sink into her stunning eyes, "I really am sorry, Lizzie. You know I didn't mean that the way it came out back there."

Nodding, Lizzie swallowed as she scooted closer, her body sliding against the cold counter. "Your mouth overloaded your butt again," she murmured, dropping her eyes, staring at the unbuttoned collar of his favorite blue shirt.

"If that's southern speak for "My husband's got such a big mouth and he likes to put his foot in it every now and again", then yeah, you're right," Dave said, smiling gently at her as his hand continued caressing her cheek, stroking his thumb under her eyelids.

"Somethin' along those lines," Lizzie nodded, pressing against his touch, letting herself relax against his strength as she slid her legs over the harsh edge of the vanity.

Pressing his lips to her forehead as he pulled her closer, he whispered against her skin, "Still love me?"

Lifting her eyes to his, Lizzie smiled tremulously as she grabbed his collar. "Always."

A long, kiss-filled minute later, Lizzie dropped her head against his solid chest as she murmured, "I bet we've got some explainin' to do to the team now, don't we?"

"We don't have to tell them anything, honey," Dave assured her, easing her down off the vanity as she adjusted her skirt, the small bath barely large enough for both of them at the same time.

Letting out a snort, Lizzie placed a hand against his chest as she tried to straighten the seam at the back of her outfit. "Obviously, you've never spent one-on-one time with Penny. She's not gonna accept anything other than the whole truth for an answer. No hidin' in the maple tree from that one. She's gonna want details, Dave."

"The only details anyone needs to know is that you and I love one another and if anyone attempts to step between that, there will be hell to pay," Dave answered, his tone implacable as he opened the tiny bathroom door, closely following her back into his office just in time to hear a slight tapping on his closed office door.

Grinning over her shoulder at her husband's dark expression and muttered curse, Lizzie murmured, "I think the FBI found us again."

"They can wait. You're far more important than they've ever been." Pulling her back to him, he cupped her cheek as he asked, his eyes serious, "You know I love you, don't you?"

"I know," Lizzie answered, covering his hand with her own, squeezing his fingers. "And I love you back. But now it's time," she added, pulling his hand down as she moved toward the door, the tapping growing louder, "to face the world again before they take a page from your book and just knock the door off its hinges."

Opening the door, Lizzie met the eyes of Jeff Michaels, the BAU's newest intern. "Oh, Mrs. Rossi! Thank goodness I found you. Agent Barnes is downstairs waiting for you. I told him you were in a meeting but he wouldn't take no for an answer. Could you please go down there and talk to him?"


	111. Chapter 111

******_Author's Note: Good eve, all! A quick thank you to everyone that continues to read, review, alert and favorite our stories. Please, let us continue to hear from each of you. As always, we enjoy hearing your thoughts and feelings on our stories - even when you don't particularly agree with the plotline. In other news, I will soon be starting a discussion forum called, "Idle Chit Chat on Author's Corner", where, hopefully, we can come together and learn more about each other and the challenges each of us face in writing. Subjects could include, finding a beta, dealing with writer's block, etc. And I'm also hoping to do one to one focus threads with authors on all ships and all pairings where we learn about their stories and the challenges they face. I think this could be a wonderful place where unique people could come together and enjoy themselves. And I really want to gauge the level of interest out there. Please let me know what you think of this idea! I really want to hear from you. Thanks again!_**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Eleven**

Feeling Dave stiffen behind her, his hand tightening against her hip, Lizzie forced herself to smile kindly at the young college student currently shifting from foot to foot in front of her, his fear and awe of her husband a well-known fact in the unit. "I'll be right there, Jeff. You just tell Agent Barnes to put on his big boy britches and take a seat. I'll be there momentarily."

"Thanks, Mrs. Rossi!" Jeff grinned, obviously relieved as he turned and jogged back down the steps.

"Elizabeth," Dave ground out, his eyes narrowing as he stared down at the petite redhead currently moving toward the door. Damn it, why had he agreed to his wife's obviously flawed plan? He should have found a way to lock that bathroom door, assign multiple armed guards, and hide her away from the world until he informed that damn agent how Italians settle the score with men who try to poach on their territories.

Turning quickly, Lizzie pressed a finger to her husband's unhappy mouth, shaking her head. "You promised me a chance to handle it myself, remember, Dave? This is it."

"One," Dave bit out, holding up a single finger and waving it in her direction as he glared down into her emerald eyes. "One chance," he clarified. "Then I get my turn."

"If necessary, Dave, if necessary" Lizzie moaned, turning to head down the stairs as she let her eyes scan the large bullpen, easily finding the pest du jour. She had a varmint to run off. And from the look she had just seen on her husband's face, she didn't have long to accomplish the deed.

His jaw tightening, Dave stepped out onto the metal balcony, his shoulders stiff as he watched his wife step back toward her desk. And toward that snake in the grass that was obviously intent on striking at the newest prey. Keeping his eyes glued on her movements, he barely heard the voices around him until he heard his name being called.

"Dave?" Hotch asked, stepping up to stand beside his senior profiler. "Everything okay?"

Never removing his eyes from the scene playing out below, Dave grunted as he straightened his shoulders, "That remains to be seen, Aaron."

A deep voice came from his other side, Morgan's chuckle easily recognizable as he leaned against the top rail . "I see you and the Missus made up."

"We came to an agreement," Dave acknowledged, his fist stiffening by his side as he watched Lizzie's shoulders stiffen as she came face to face with the lascivious smiling face of Agent Barnes.

Following Dave's line of sight, Morgan whistled softly, his tone one of disbelief as he muttered, "Damn, man, you're letting her get that close to that weasel?"

"Morgan," Hotch said evenly, that one word filled with warning, obvious even over the din resounding around them. "I'm sure Dave and Lizzie are working this out among themselves."

Keeping his eagle eyes trained on the only person that truly mattered to him, Dave muttered darkly, "She gets one chance to get her point across. If she doesn't make it, I get to make mine."

"With a baseball bat?" Morgan asked hopefully, his dark eyebrows raised as he looked over at the older profiler.

"Derek, would you please shut up before I have to make it an order?" Hotch groaned, seeing Dave's face tighten as Agent Barnes reached across the desk to touch Lizzie's hand.

"What?" Morgan snorted, rolling his eyes. "That guy," Morgan said, nodding down into the bullpen, "has put the move on every woman with a heartbeat, married or not, every time he's walked through our doors for months. Hell, even I've gotta code. If it wears a ring, you must spring. If the finger's bare, I am there! It's a good code! And he's not even on a BAU team, man."

"He wants to be though," Hotch muttered, his own eyes carefully watching the man in question. "And lately, he's had Strauss' ear."

"He might have the Section Chief's ear, but I've got the Director's balls in my desk drawer," Dave hissed, his meaning clear. "And the man owes me an assload of favors that I'm not the least bit afraid to call in. One more move toward my wife and I'm having that fucking ass stationed in Alaska. Or Montana...don't they have rabid animals in Montana?"

"I hear the life expectancy of federal agents out West can be measured in minutes," Morgan commented encouragingly, spurring on the older profiler as he remembered the last time Agent Barnes had looked at Penelope with more than just friendship in his eyes. "Seem to remember the local militias have a nasty little habit of using them for midnight target practice. We could always send word ahead of time that there's fresh meat coming on the next plane."

Nodding in terse agreement, Dave muttered, "Works for me. Although the bastard's not worth the lead it'd take to end his… Oh hell no, he didn't."

Jerking his eyes forward at Dave's suddenly hissed words, Hotch reached out just in time to grab Rossi's arm as he stepped toward the stairs. Pulling him back quickly, Hotch counseled, voice low, "You told her one chance, Dave. Let her do it."

"The son of a bitch just leaned over to cop a feel," Dave snapped sharply, his hand clenching as he jerked his arm away from Hotch's iron grip. "You don't think I'm gonna let that go unpunished, do you?"

"But she rebuffed him," Hotch replied, one eye on his industrious cousin as she slapped a clip board against her desk. His other eye stayed glued to his newest in-law, knowing that David Rossi would have no reluctance whatsoever in removing Agent Barnes sorry carcass from the face of the earth, without the benefit of judge or jury. Good Lord, if this kept up, he was going to go cross-eyed. And he didn't think the Bureau would consider that an occupational acquired disease.


	112. Chapter 112

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Twelve**

Staring up at the smarmy agent, his grin implying he was thinking of sharing more than just a meal with her, Lizzie forced herself to maintain her innate charm as she took a step back, dropping her clipboard to her desk. "Now, Agent Barnes, don't make me have to find your mama's phone number and give her a ring. I'm sure she raised you to be a gentleman and wouldn't take kindly to your inability to take no for an answer, now would she?"

Leaning forward, his eyebrow raised, Barnes leered as he replied, hand over his heart, "My sainted mother, God rest her soul, passed on to her eternal reward years ago, Lizzie. And she did raise me to be a gentleman. A gentleman who appreciates the pleasure of female companionship, especially when the female is a vision such as yourself."

"Tell me, Agent Barnes," Lizzie said politely, shooting a quick glance up the metal staircase where her husband stood clenching the metal banister, flanked on either side by two very disgruntled looking agents, "do you have cotton in your ears or are you intentionally deaf? I believe I just told you thirty seconds ago that I was happily married."

"To a man almost twice your age," Barnes drawled with a smug smile, arching a well-defined brow. "Trust me, my dear Elizabeth, if a tenth of what I've heard about Agent Rossi is true, he's already being entertained by a bevy of other women. Why shouldn't you have the same opportunity to expand your horizons? I can promise you that you won't be disappointed."

"I love my husband," Lizzie replied with soft conviction, well aware that anything the agent was telling her was only meant to further his own cause. "And since I'm the one warmin' Dave's bed every night, I'm not very worried about the alleged bevy of beauties."

"Oh, but, Lizzie," Barnes said, reaching out to squeeze her arm, his fingers lingering on her delicate skin, "come out with me and the bed won't just be warm. It'll be scorching."

"You determined little ferret, aren't you?" Lizzie replied impatiently, smacking his hand away with her manicured nails. "I'm a God-fearing faithful wife, Agent Barnes, who happens to love her husband dearly and takes her vows seriously. I suggest you take your sleazy innuendos on down the road and peddle them somewhere else."

"But, Lizzie," Barnes murmured, stepping around her desk, crowding her space, "I don't think you're giving this proper consideration."

"What I'm considerin' is how much shorter your life's gonna be if you don't take about three steps back!" Lizzie hissed, watching as Dave smacked his hand against the banister and started toward the stairs. "Now, shoo!" she said with angry frustration, reaching for her clip board again and banging it against the obstinate man's arm. "Or you're gonna find out what happens when a rat terrier puppy meets an American Bull Dog!"

"You mean that old man that obviously isn't keeping your attention?" Barnes snarked, cocking one eyebrow as he let his eyes take a trip in a southerly direction. Grinning at the delights he was imagining, he whispered, cajoling, "Come on, Lizzie, you know what they say, don't you?"

"I don't know which they you're yapping about, and I couldn't really care less about anything that so-called they might be known for repeatin'" Lizzie replied sharply, taking a step backwards as she felt him invade her space in a manner that was entirely beyond her comfort level.

"They say that an old dog can't learn new tricks," Barnes informed her, bringing his eyes back up to meet her flashing green gaze. Leaning forward, he confided, "And I can tell you for sure that I've got many, many pleasurable things that you and I can learn together."

Her eyes widening as she fully comprehended what the snake in the grass was implying, Lizzie opened her mouth, a scorching retort on the tip of her tongue, only to feel a strong arm wrap around her shoulders. And she knew that touch as well as she knew her own name. Releasing a sigh of relief mixed with concern at the coming confrontation, Lizzie turned to face the stone face of her husband as she murmured, relaxing against his side, "Dave, Agent Barnes was just leaving." Nodding toward the interloper, she added, her voice firm, "Weren't you?"

"Now, Lizzie, I don't think we were finished with our discussion," Barnes said brazenly, turning to meet Dave's gaze head on.

"You really are dumber than a stump, aren't you?" Lizzie asked incredulously, glaring at the other man as she felt Dave stiffen behind her.

"Honey," Dave said in a deceptively soft voice, his lips inches from her ear, "I'm about to slip my chain."

Shaking her head, she murmured, "You don't have to go to that trouble." Smiling coldly at Agent Barnes, she added sweetly, "I just removed my husband's leash. Good luck, Agent Barnes." Turning to Dave, she ordered sternly as she smacked her hand against his chest, "Don't you dare get his blood on these carpets! I just conned maintenance into shampooin' them last week."

"For the record, there's no bloodshed if you just break the little maggot's neck," Morgan suggested with a sneer toward Barnes, his presence located just a few steps behind his senior agent.

Finally recognizing the dangerous glint in David Rossi's dark eyes, Barnes took an involuntary step backward. "Now, there's no trouble here. Lizzie and I were just enjoying a casual conversation."

"I don't think my wife sees it from the same point of view," Rossi said calmly, pushing Lizzie behind him as he took a step toward the retreating snake. "And for that matter, neither do I. I don't consider it casual when my wife is subjected to unwanted attention." Calling over his shoulder softly, he asked, "And it was unwanted, wasn't it, Elizabeth?"

"Absolutely, Dave," Lizzie assured him, her arms crossed over her chest as she peered around her husband's broad shoulders, wanting a bird's eye view when the battle started. She might be a lady, but she still enjoyed a good fight, especially when she had no doubt who the victor was going to be.


	113. Chapter 113

**_Author's Note: Thanks for reading, everyone. Just a note, we'll be back on Friday. Thanks!_**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen**

"See? I heard those words just perfectly. But apparently you're not capable of understanding simple English," Dave continued, taking another step forward, his hand clenched by his side, a glare on his face.

Swallowing at the tone in the older agent's voice, Barnes glanced frantically from side to side, every skill he'd ever learned as a federal agent flying out the window as he found himself firmly in the sights of David Rossi. "Now, Agent Rossi, I think you and I might have gotten off on the wrong foot. Perhaps we can…."

"I don't know what world you're living in, kid, but there's never gonna be a WE anything," Dave interrupted, his eyes darkening as he barely resisted the urge to smash his fist into the groveling little weasel's face.

"Oh, go ahead, Rossi," Morgan encouraged from behind him, standing next to Lizzie, his eyes grinning at the sight in front of him. "Pound him to the ground. You know you want to!"

"Quit antagonizin'," Lizzie ordered, slapping Morgan's arm sharply as she glanced around the bullpen, well aware that they had drawn a crowd of onlookers.

"Listen, Agent Rossi, all I did was offer to take her out to dinner. How many married ladies have you asked out to dinner? I'm willin' to bet it numbers in the hundreds. Can't blame a guy for taking a page out of your play book, can you?" Barnes asked nervously, backing into a metal desk without warning, his legs jarring at the impact.

"I haven't had a play book at all since well before I married my wife. And filling her ears regarding tales of my alleged former exploits is hardly the way to gain my approval, is it?" Dave snapped angrily.

"Sir, you're not exactly known for your loving devotion to any of your prior wives. I honestly didn't think she'd be any different," Barnes said, grasping at straws as he realized that any avenue of escape was long gone.

"You thought wrong. Very, very wrong," Dave growled, his arms crossing over his chest as he stood inches away.

"You can't blame me for not knowing the new lay of the land," Barnes threw up his hands, the excuse flying off his lips as he felt his feet slipping slightly out from under him. "I've been away. On special assignment for the Section Chief. How was I to know that the rules had changed? It's not my fault if…"

"But it is your fault for not taking no for an answer," Rossi said softly, his eyes boring into the sweating face of the bastard that tried to steal his wife. And if there was one thing he could not..would not…stand for, it was someone attacking what was his.

"I hear her loud and clear now," Barnes assured him, his eyes looking around the room at the agents that had gathered to watch. Nodding rapidly, he smiled oily as he added, "I hear you both just perfectly. And now that we understand each other, I'll just be on my way…"

"I'm glad to hear that your listening skills have made a marvelous recovery, but I have a feeling you might need a refresher course," Rossi said evilly, shaking his head at the man's ineptitude. "Far, far away from my wife."

"Now, Agent Rossi, I don't know what you're thinking, but it's not necessary to…"

"You're right. It's not necessary. I could just beat you to a bloody pulp right here, but it's not worth having my wife mad at me for messing up the carpet," Dave answered casually, arching one brow as he heard Morgan's snort of laughter in the background. "So I think you'll be learning your lesson from the South Dakota field office. I hear they're looking for a new agent and I'm sure the Director will sign off on your transfer orders immediately."

"But...but..." the younger man sputtered, his head jerking up in surprise and obvious distress at that piece of information.

"I'd suggest you take your new change of address and run with it," Hotch advised from behind Agent Barnes, his deep voice interrupting any possible argument the disgruntled agent might have been thinking of making.

"Very far and very fast," Dave added dangerously, taking another step forward, invading the younger agent's personal space with a highly personal message.

Watching as the irritating man pushed away from the desk, skirted around her husband and scampered away, Lizzie moved back to Dave's side. "Feel better now?" Lizzie asked quietly, her eyes glancing up at his dark face as he watched the glass door close behind the fleeing man.

"Not really," Dave muttered, shrugging his shoulders as he dropped his arm around her shoulder. "I didn't even get to punch him," Dave whined, pointing toward the door as he let out a deep breath.

Rolling her eyes, Lizzie dropped one hand to her hip. "You think violence is the answer to everything."

"No, I just think that sometimes it makes a clear impact. And it's a hell of a lot more satisfying," he griped as he turned toward her, burying his hand under her curls to cup her neck, staring down into her wide emerald eyes.

Fingering her husband's tie, Lizzie tugged slightly on the silky material, bringing his ear into whispering distance. "I have an idea. Since it's almost quittin' time, why don't you take your wife home and let me help you work out those frustrations of yours in a much more productive and satisfyin' way?"

Fighting a grin, Dave lifted gleaming eyes to hers as he pulled her closer. "Are you trying to distract me, Mrs. Rossi?"

"Depends on if it's workin'," Lizzie grinned, wriggling her eyebrows as she studiously ignored Derek Morgan's laughter behind her.

"Grab your purse and I'll show you how well in the elevator," Dave murmured, returning her smile. And watching as she easily moved toward her desk, the sounds of the Bureau returning to normal business around them, Dave decided that if he was lucky, they could spend the rest of their lives distracting each other in ways that would be extremely pleasurable.

And he was looking forward to every single minute of it.


	114. Chapter 114

**_Author's Note: Several notes today. Thanks to everyone still reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting this story. We truly appreciate hearing from each one of you. Our new discussion forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" is now up and running. Last I looked, it's the last forum listed on page two. Please go take a look. Ideally, it will have an update per day. Please let us know of any threads you'd like to discuss. "Getting To Know You" interviews will hopefully begin on Monday. This will probably be our last update until Sunday night._**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fourteen**

Six months later, the sound of her muffled sobbing pulled him from his sleep. Rolling over in their comfortable bed, alone, he winced as his mind recognized the sound, and he sighed deeply. He knew those soft sounds meant one thing. Another negative pregnancy test.

Squeezing his eyes closed for a moment, he fought to get his emotions under control before approaching his wife. Hell, after the past handful of months, he ought to be used to this feeling. This sinking feeling that somehow he'd failed her again. That overwhelmingly helpless feeling that he hated with a bone deep intensity.

God, he hated this powerless sensation. And with every passing month, it only worsened.

She became more distant, and that fire that seemed to dwell within her was extinguished a little further. He was losing his wife a little more each day. She was sliding away from him. Not to another man. Not because of his career. All because of her pursuit of a dream that she'd actually convinced him to share in.

He could actually pinpoint where he'd began to lose his grip on her....their miscarriage four months ago. Their life had changed ever since that dreary night when he'd held his wife four months ago while they'd grieved their loss together. Hell, they hadn't even known the dream was a reality until it was over. And for him, it was hard to miss what he'd not known he'd attained.

Not so for his Lizzie.

After that, life had devolved into an endless stream of doctor appointments and calendars. Fertility tests and thermometers. In short, his wife was on a crusade to deliver him his first child. And she'd approached the task with the steely determination of a seasoned general going to war. All to no avail.

It had been the same for four months. Four very long, very trying months.

And if he couldn't remember it, her choked sobs from the vicinity of the bathroom was a vivid reminder of what they had repeatedly faced. But above everything else, one thing remained, despite the obstacles. He loved his wife more deeply every day. And that's what propelled him out of the bed toward the bathroom, shoving the heavy comforter off him in a sweeping motion.

She had told herself that this was the month. It had to be. She was certain of it. She had given herself the sternest pep talk possible, quoted every positive thinking phrase she had ever heard and tried to remember every scripture that pointed her toward a better future. Following every rule and regulation, and even the old wives tales that had no basis in science, Lizzie had become a one-woman army determined to conquer the apparent impossible and prove all those people wrong. All in hope that if she prepared for the best, then the best would happen.

But it didn't. Again.

How could she love something that she'd never had to begin with? How could her heart be breaking for a baby that she'd never known and might never even have? How?

Staring down at the tiny white stick in her fingers, Lizzie couldn't stop the sob that seemed to crawl its way out of her parched throat. Only one line. One line….again and again and again. Letting the stick slip out of her fingers, much like she felt her chances of being a mother were doing, she dropped to the floor beside it. Why was she being cursed? Why couldn't she do the one thing that every other woman on the face of the earth could do? Why her? Why them?

Huddling in the curved corner between the bathtub and the closet, Lizzie let her tears fall, her head pressed against her knees. She could literally feel that baby in her arms already, cuddling against her chest as she rocked her to sleep, lullabies on her lips. But her arms were empty. There was no baby. Not this month, or last month, or the month before that. The baby she had carried for just a few weeks wasn't here anymore, having slipped away from her touch before she even had a chance to celebrate. All she had been left with was the deepest ache and loss she'd ever known in her life, not even Dave's arms strong enough to hold away the pain that had seemed to overtake every inch of her soul.

And as she sobbed deeper and harder, her chest literally ripping with every cry, she was afraid there would never be a baby. Never again.

Stepping into the darkened bathroom, Dave knew exactly where to find her, her hiding place never changing over the past months. His heart tightened as he moved softly toward her, her huddled form seeming smaller than usual as she curled up on herself. Grabbing a washcloth from the vanity, he damped it under the cold water, then squatted before her, sliding a gentle hand against wild curls. He took a deep breath, forcing away the thoughts of a tiny little girl with Lizzie's red head and his dark eyes running wild through the meadow.

"Lizzie, babe," he began softly, knowing from the last four months that this would be a long process, "Honey, you're gonna make yourself sick again."

Jerking her head up at his quietly spoken words, Lizzie winced as she saw his dark eyes staring down at her. "I thought you were sleepin'," she muttered guiltily, taking the washcloth from his hands and scrubbing it over her face.

"You left the bed," Dave said softly, tucking a strand of curls behind her ear.

Grabbing the negative pregnancy test and holding it warily between her fingers, she waved it uselessly between them. "I failed again," she whispered raggedly, closing her eyes against the pain that suddenly washed over her once again.

Grimacing at her choice of words, Dave shook his head. "Babe, we've talked about this. It's not a pass or fail kind of test."

Laughing bitterly as she ducked her head and wiped another tear away, she retorted, "Easy for you to say. Your doctor said you were the picture of fertility. Sperm motility of a man half your age, remember? It's me that's as barren as the Sahara desert."

"Elizabeth, stop," Dave ordered sternly, covering her clutched hands with his. "That's not what he said," Dave corrected gently.

"You're right," Lizzie said sharply, jerking her eyes up to his as she pulled her hands away. "I believe what he said was I had an inhospitable environment for a fetus to thrive."

"He said it could be difficult. Not that it couldn't happen. Honey, it _did _happen for us once," Dave pointed out gently, sliding down beside her on the cold tile floor.

"And I lost her!" Lizzie bit out hoarsely, leaning her head back against the harsh wall, all other thoughts slipping from her mind as she focused completely on the one thing that she apparently couldn't have.

A baby. No, she told herself bitterly, not just any baby. His baby. She wanted Dave's baby. And she wanted it now.


	115. Chapter 115

******_Author's Note: Thanks to everyone still reading and reviewing our stories. We adore hearing from you. A few housekeeping notes for today...two interviews with two of our amazing fellow authors have been posted today at the discussion forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". Foreverpadfoot and Dustytiger graciously agreed to be my first participants. Please check out their interviews at the forum and take a look at some of their wonderful work. If anyone has a favorite author that they'd like to see interviewed or learn more about, shoot me a PM and I'll see if they're amenable. As always, I really love hearing from you guys! It's an honor to be allowed to write for you. Thanks, again._**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen**

"So we keep trying," Dave replied, undeterred, slipping his arm around her quaking shoulders. "Or we can start investigating some of our other options more closely. Adoption...surrogacy..."

"You think I could bear watching _another_ woman grow big with your child?" Lizzie sobbed, the words catching in her throat as she shook her head. "How much cruelty do you think I can take, Dave?"

"Hey," Dave interrupted, squeezing her hand as he pressed a kiss to her hair. "Our child, Lizzie. My sperm, your egg..."

"And somebody else's oven," Lizzie interjected angrily, stiffening at the thought. "No!" she sobbed, her cries echoing through the small room.

"Okay," Dave replied calmly, smoothing a hand over her bent back. "There's adoption, honey. Plenty of good children need homes..."

"And if we wanted a baby, we could be on the waiting list for years. Years, Dave! Why can't you understand that I want to have _our_ baby? Why?" she whimpered.

"I do understand, Lizzie," Dave sighed, reaching for the washcloth again, pulling it from her clenched hands. "I also understand that you're breaking your heart in here, month after month. Do you have any idea what it does to me to watch you do that to yourself...to us?"

"I can't help it, Dave!" Lizzie sobbed, the tears starting to roll down her cheeks again as she felt that familiar ache settle in place. "I don't know how to stop it anymore! I don't know how to fix it!"

"Honey, it's not something that can be fixed, no matter how hard you try," Dave soothed, sweeping the damp cloth against her flushed skin as he captured her hands in his. "It'll fix itself or…"

"Or what?" Lizzie moaned, dropping her head against the wallpaper again, her eyes scrunched tightly against him, against his words. "It's not gonna happen, Dave! I'm useless as a woman and…."

"Oh, hell no," he interrupted her immediately, his fingers tightening around hers. Tilting her chin, he demanded gently, "Look at me, Elizabeth."

Waiting until her swollen eyes reluctantly opened, her green eyes dull and lifeless inside, he stroked his thumb against her lips as he whispered, "You are perfect, Elizabeth Grace Rossi. I don't stand for anyone else to talk about you, and I won't let you think badly about yourself either. This is a setback, babe, that's all."

"It's the same setback, month after month," Lizzie whispered, shaking her head, her lips rubbing against his touch. "It's all I think about. I get up in the morning thinking about it. I go to bed at night thinking about it..."

"I know, Elizabeth. I'm there with you, damn it!" Dave replied as he tightened his fingers even more, his own worry rising unbidden. "Our lives revolve around fertility doctors and charts of your temperatures. I've got a fucking calendar that tells me when I'm allowed to touch my wife. Remember last Friday, Lizzie? I kissed you and you pushed me away. You didn't want us to start something because it wasn't a fucking fertile day! I miss you! I miss holding my wife. I miss making love to my wife because we feel like it."

"What do you want me to do?" Lizzie cried brokenly, his words biting at her very soul. "I'm doing what all the books and experts s-say! I'm not tryin' to push you away. I'm tryin' to give you a baby!"

Taking a deep breath, Dave told himself to calm down. The last thing he wanted to do was add any more pain to his wife's eyes. Listening as her sobs began in earnest again, shaking her fragile shoulders, Dave pulled Lizzie into his lap, rocking her against him. Pressing his lips to her forehead as she cried, Dave cursed himself and his big mouth. He hadn't meant to make her feel guilty for something else out of her control.

"Listen to me, baby," he soothed, holding her slight body against his. "I think we need to go back to the beginning. We got pregnant the first time when we weren't thinking about it. When we weren't following schedules. We were just a normal married couple in love. I say, we go back to that for three months. We relax and we do things the old fashioned way. If it doesn't work, I'll let you drag me to whatever doctors you want. I'd do whatever the prescribed method calls for. Anything. But we both need a break from this."

"But Dave, the doctor says…." Lizzie sobbed against his neck, her fingers clawing at his shoulders, needing something strong to hold on to in her topsy-turvy world.

"I know what the doctor says, honey," Dave answered, forcing himself to hold the snap out of his tone. "I'm saying that you and I need to do what we do best, which is love each other." Tilting her chin up, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips as he whispered, softly, "I do love you, Lizzie."

Sniffling, Lizzie let her arms wrap around his strong neck as she blinked slowly, his face coming back into view. Staring up into his dark, deep eyes, Lizzie murmured, her words catching in her throat, "I love you too, Dave. But what if…"

"No what ifs or what might be's, Elizabeth," Dave shushed her, pressing another kiss to her lips, letting out a sigh of relief when he felt her respond, her lips pressing back against his. Running a soft, gentle hand against the swell of her hip, he smiled slightly as he promised her, "Just you and me, honey. No pressure, no worries, no nothing but two people who know how to make each other happy. I do make you happy, don't I, Elizabeth?"

Nodding against his chin, her unruly curls bouncing in his beard, Lizzie leaned against his chest as she whispered, "I've never been as happy as I was when I married you, Dave."

"Then I think that tells us something, honey," Dave assured her, sliding a gentle hand down her fragile spine as he shifted them against the cold tile floor. "And it's time we went back to those basics. Starting now."


	116. Chapter 116

**_Author's Note: Thank you so much for the continued support of the readers. Your reviews and PMs mean a lot! Please check out the new thread on our discussion forum "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". It's called "The Power of the Almighty Review". Thanks!!_**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Sixteen**

A short minute later, Lizzie found herself cocooned in the loving embrace of her husband, tucked back into that giant king sized bed that she had grown to love. And she reminded herself as she let herself be drawn into his deep kiss that she loved him. Dearly.

Losing herself in sensation, she felt sure hands smoothing her gown up her body. Moaning softly as he drew his lips away from hers, she heard his husky, "Lift your arms, Lizzie." Mindlessly obeying, she felt a swish of cool air against her as he sent her gown, no longer necessary, sailing across the bedroom.

Kissing her again, Dave tangled his tongue with hers, groaning at her sweet familiar taste. How long had it been since they'd simply concentrated on each other as they made love instead of focusing on creating a life between them? As he felt her warm lips slide across his neck, he knew it didn't matter. However long it had been, it'd been too damned long. And it stopped now.

Groaning as he felt her teeth bite gently at his shoulder, he lowered one hand to caress her breast. "I've missed you," he whispered against her cheek as he gently strummed his thumb against a pebbled nipple. "Missed doing all those things that make you make those sweet little noises," he murmured as another soft moan escaped her lips as his shaft rubbed against her sweet warmth.

Watching as his head lowered to take a breast between his lips, she sighed as she felt him tug at the aching peak, suckling gently as he dropped his hand between her legs, sliding his strong fingers through her slick folds, finding that wonderful spot that always made her catch her breath. "Dave," she breathed, his name a prayer flowing from her lips as he raised his head to meet her eyes.

"I'm here, sweetheart," he soothed, sinking a finger into her snug heat as he kissed her lips again, sliding his tongue against hers, mimicking the rhythm of his hand. "I just want you to relax and feel again. I want us both to feel," he whispered, dipping his head to trail kisses down her neck.

"I love you," Lizzie said softly, closing her arms around his neck as his mouth continued to drop wet kisses along the column of her neck. Sliding her foot along his bare leg, Lizzie arched against him, wordlessly showing him that she wanted him in the best way she knew how.

"Look at me, baby," Dave ordered gently as he shifted against her soft body and slowly eased his body into hers in one slow roll of his hips, making them one. Watching her face as her breath caught, Dave smiled greedily, dropping a gentle kiss to her lips.

Opening her mouth to his, Lizzie moaned as he slowly sank deeper into her depths. "Oh, sweet God," she breathed, tightening her arms around his neck, her body filling more with every move. "David," she sighed, arching her hips to meet his slow thrusts.

"Hmmm," he hummed, cradling a heavy breast as he slowly ate at her nipple, keeping his strokes slow and easy, wanting to make this wonderful coupling last as long as humanly possible.

"M-more," Lizzie gasped, pressing her head against the pillow underneath her as his teeth gently captured her nipple, rolling it against his tongue. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she struggled to bring him deeper into the cradle of her body, needing every inch of his amazing body.

"Soon," Dave chuckled, giving in a bit as he thrust a little harder into her heat, earning a lusty moan for his effort.

"Now," Lizzie demanded, sinking her nails into his firm backside, insistently pulling him closer.

Smiling against her cheek at her tone, Dave moved his hand to her hips, holding her still against him as he thrust in and out of her, determinedly keeping his movements slow and steady, building the growing need in her.

Kissing her deeply, Dave swallowed her groan greedily, relishing each needy sound she made. God, he'd missed this...missed her. Shifting a hand between them to lightly stroke her sweet bundle of nerves, he growled against her neck as he felt her stiffen in pleasure and keen wantonly.

"Dave, please!" she whispered hoarsely, unable to think of anything else other than this man that she loved, this man that she married.

Hearing the desperate plea in her voice, Dave covered her lips again, as he deepened his thrusts, cupping her ass as he plunged into her. "God, yes!" he grunted when he felt her small nimble hands slip between them, cupping his heavy balls in her hand and squeezing gently. Nipping her full lower lip as he pounded into her, he gasped, "So good, baby! You feel so good around me!" Nipping her shoulder, he groaned as her walls tightened around him. "So soft and wet for me!"

"Dave! Dave! I'm so close," Lizzie cried out, tightening her grip on the man above her as that sharp pleasure began to sing through her body and his hips rocked against hers. "Oh God! Dave!" she screamed against his neck, her body convulsing around his.

Hearing her scream of completion echoing against his ears, Dave groaned deeply as he buried himself in her body, his release coming long and hard, wracking his corded body as his hand closed around hers against the pillow. Collapsing against her, both of them sweaty and panting, Dave found the final bit of strength to lift his head, capturing her lips in a sweet kiss.

Finally lifting himself on his elbows, Dave stared down into Lizzie's soft green eyes, unable to read the emotions flashing there. "You okay, honey? I got carried away..."

Pressing a finger against his lips, Lizzie shook her head as she smiled weakly. "I'm perfect."

Rolling to his side, he heard her dissatisfied murmur. "Shhh, I'm too heavy to lie on you. Come here, babe," he said softly, pulling her against him, her back flush with his chest. Dropping kisses against her shoulder, he whispered, "I love you so much. I don't ever want to feel us slipping away from each other again, Elizabeth."

"Me either," she confessed, rubbing her cheek against his strong, muscled arm. "I didn't mean for it to happen."

"Neither did I, sweetheart," he replied, running a gentle hand up and down her side, his movements slow and gentle. "And we aren't gonna let it happen again. Ever. It's you and me together." Gesturing toward the nightstand, he ordered, his tone firm, "Now, hand me that phone."

Reaching for the cordless, Lizzie looked quizzically over her shoulder as she saw the determined look flashing in his eyes. "Why? Who are you callin'?"

Taking the phone from her hand, Dave grinned as he started punching the lit buttons. "Hotch. You and I are taking today off and having a very long weekend. We're going to spend some time focusing on each other."

Dropping her head back to his chest, Lizzie nodded. "I like the sound of that," she murmured, feeling completely loved and secure as he drew her closer against him.


	117. Chapter 117

******_Author's Note: Thanks to everyone following, reviewing, alerting and favoriting our stories. We continue to appreciate your ongoing support. Please, travel over to our discussion forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". Today we've posted a great "Getting To Know" interview with the very talented hxchick, author of "An Unconventional Family". As ever, we don't own Criminal Minds._**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Seventeen**

Leaning forward in the oversize tub that filled the corner of their master bath, Lizzie sighed as the soft sponge slid down her back. "Don't stop," she whispered, breathing in the soft scents of the bubbles surrounding them. It was official, she thought to herself, her body lazily floating against his. Something that felt this good, this wonderful, this relaxing just had to be a sin, didn't it?

"You are getting spoiled, Mrs. Rossi," Dave chuckled, pulling Lizzie back against his damp chest and dropping a kiss to her nape as she shimmied against his body. For the past three days, he had done everything in his power to dispel the darkness that had settled over her, over them. And if her reaction right now was any indication, he was fairly certain that he had succeeded in his self-appointed mission.

"It's your fault. You done the damage. Too late to complain about it now," Lizzie replied tartly, pinching his wet arm for emphasis as she kicked at a large mounds of white glistening bubbles.

"Not complaining," Dave laughed, sliding the soapy sponge over her breasts, smiling appreciatively at the shimmer of her skin as the delicate area pebbled perfectly. "Just stating a fact."

"Now listen here," Lizzie replied, schooling her face into an appropriately stern mask as she turned in his arms, straddling Dave's waist easily. "The way I remember it, you had a fair amount of fun playin' with all the pretty bobbles thrown at you this weekend. The least my loving husband could do is appropriately relax his wife before he drags her back into the real world tomorrow."

Slipping his arms around her waist, Dave laughed as he let the sponge plop into the warm water, floating amidst the voluminous foam. "Honey, I don't remember you ever letting me drag you anywhere you didn't wanna go. And I already told you that I'd be happy to book a cruise to anywhere you wanna go for as long as you want to go there. YOU'RE the one that insisted we had to be responsible adults. Remember?" Dave chuckled, dropping his hands to her beautiful rear end.

"We just had a honeymoon, David," Lizzie said, shaking her head as she slid closer, sliding her body against his, the lapping water surrounding them like a warm cocoon.

"In case you haven't noticed, Babe, we've been married almost a year," Dave reminded her, tucking her closer to him as he reached for the small button on the side of the tub, the gentle roar of the jets sounding as the water began to bubble even more. He knew that he wasn't supposed to let the Jacuzzi run with bubbles in place, but that piece of knowledge was overruled by the simple fact that his wife loved a bubble bath. And he was willing to give her all the bubbles she wanted if that was going to make her happy.

"Really?" Lizzie replied, surprised, cocking her head to the side as she stared into his eyes. "You're right," she drawled in amazement, her mental calculations reaching the same conclusion, "It really has been that long, hasn't it?"

"Time flies when you're having fun, doesn't it?" Dave laughed, dropping a kiss against her lips as he settled her easier against his hips, groaning to himself as he felt her bare, slick body slide against a very sensitive part of his anatomy.

"I reckon it does," Lizzie returned, smiling against his lips. Sighing, she snuggled her head against his strong neck, "When was the last time we did this?"

"What?" Dave asked softly, stroking a soft hand down the gentle curve of her back.

"This," Lizzie shrugged against him. "Sat in a warm bath holdin' each other," she clarified as she slid her foot against his leg.

Brushing a kiss against her temple, Dave shook his head. "It's been a while, honey," he offered softly, guarding his words carefully, not wanting to ruin the mood they had managed to create.

Quiet for a few moments, Lizzie finally lifted her head, meeting his dark steady gaze. "I really sailed right on off the deep end there, didn't I?" she asked faintly, biting her lip hesitantly.

Tucking a strand of curls that had tumbled from her messy ponytail behind her ear, Dave whispered, "I was as guilty as you were, Babe. I should have tried harder to pull you back to me. I just wanted to see you happy so badly...and we both lost sight of what was really important. Whether we have ten children or spend the rest of our lives being the benevolent aunt and uncle to all the kids around us, we've both got to remember that we have each other. For better or worse."

Swallowing tightly, Lizzie nodded. "I just really wanted to have your baby," Lizzie whispered, her green eyes dulling for a moment as she fought the pain in her heart.

"I know, sweetheart," Dave murmured, dropping his forehead against hers. "But I want you more than I want anything on earth. A child would be a bonus. But, I love you."

Nodding again, Lizzie blinked back tears as she mumbled, her throat tight for a moment, "But we'll still try?"

"Been making a hell of an effort for the past three days, haven't we?" Dave winked, smoothing his thumb across her cheek as her cradled her face, wanting nothing more than to see her smile once again. He would willingly spend the rest of his life doing whatever was necessary to keep her smiling, her happiness his only concern.

"We definitely haven't been sittin' on our hands," Lizzie said, smiling weakly as she let her mind recall the various moments she had shared with her husband, her cheeks reddening ever so slightly at those memories.

"Aren't you the one telling me that God always provides? Have a little faith, honey," Dave reminded her gently, pulling her into his arms.

"I'll try, Dave. Really, I will," Lizzie promised, turning her lips to his again, needing the comfort that his touch brought her, the security that came with his love.

And as the water bubbled around them, they once again slipped into the age-old rhythm, sharing their bodies as easily as they shared their love.


	118. Chapter 118

_**Author's Note: Once again, thanks to everyone for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and alerting our stories! We know that your time is valuable, and we appreciate your willingness to read and let us know what you are thinking. We'll be taking a break over the weekend, and hope to post again on either Monday or Tuesday.**_

_**Please check out our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner." We'll be posting a new topic later today and would love to hear from you! You can access the forum on either the forum page or by visiting my profile page (ilovetvalot) and clicking "My Forums."**_

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Eighteen**

Lifting her lips to receive a soft kiss from her husband three months later, Lizzie grinned. Things were better than they had been in months. It finally felt like she and Dave had found their way back to normalcy, devoting every free second they had to each other and their marriage.

Watching him jog up the metal staircase toward his office, she lightly touched her belly. And it appeared that once again, her husband had been right, not that she'd ever give him that much credit aloud. Because that little stick she'd snuck with her on the way to her morning bath three days ago hadn't let her down. There'd definitely been two little pink lines, pretty as you please. The doctor had confirmed it yesterday during lunch. She was officially eight weeks along, miraculously past the marker of her last miscarriage.

Now, she just needed to find the perfect way to tell him.

Maybe inspiration would come in the audio visual room, she thought with a roll of her eyes, glaring at the box of video on her desk. Per Strauss' direct order, she was to make sure each evidence tape was clearly labeled and to verify the contents of each. Scrunching her nose, she picked up a handful and made her way toward the darkened office down the hall, wondering why in the world she was willingly going to spend a morning with her eyes glued to a television screen watching the case tapes. The things she did for the FBI!

Seconds later, she popped the first tape in and settled into a desk chair with her remote. But she didn't watch long. Smiling as she watched her dark headed husband at work on the screen, she couldn't help the small thrill that came from knowing he was hers. But for the life of her, she couldn't understand why they were filming him in his hotel room. Watching as he made his progress across the room toward the bed, a black haired woman waiting for him, Lizzie gasped as she watched Emily Prentiss roll to her back. Draped with a sheet, the other agent opened her arms to him as he lowered his head to kiss her.

"Oh my God," Lizzie whispered as she clutched the remote even tighter, watching in horror as her husband lowered his body over the brunette woman, rolling her to her back. Glancing down at the date stamp in the bottom of the screen, she noted the date. April 14.

Based on the date and activities on the screen, her husband had cheated on her less than a year into their marriage. And less than two weeks after they'd lost their baby. Lurching toward the trash can, Lizzie retched violently, barely hearing the door swing open at that moment.

"Hey, Lizzie? Got a sec?" Emily asked cheerfully, smiling as she walked into the semi-dark room. Frowning as she saw Lizzie on her knees, she rushed toward her, her dark eyes widening quickly. "Oh my God! Are you okay?"

Gasping as she lifted her head, Lizzie gasped out, the words catching in her stripped throat as she slapped at Emily's helping hands, "You! Get away from me, you husband stealing witch!"

"What?" Emily gasped, taking a faltering step back, confusion in her words as she stared down at the obviously distraught woman. "What are you talking about, Lizzie?"

"How long, Emily?" Lizzie bit out, pulling herself up from the floor as she held onto the wall for support, her stomach roiling in protest as she tried to hold herself up straight. Swallowing hard as she fought the demons in her mind, she demanded, harshly, "How long have you been sleepin' with him and actin' like you were MY friend?"

Shaking her head blankly, Emily's eyes widened as she tried to make sense of the situation. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Lizzie!"

Jabbing a finger toward the screen, those awful pictures still sliding across the black box, Lizzie shrieked, "I'd say that explains it all, don't you? Guess the sun really don't shine on the same dog's tail all the time."

Looking in the direction Lizzie's finger pointed, Emily paled, shaking her head. "No. No, Lizzie," Emily babbled, her words falling out over and over as she realized the gravity of the situation, quickly recognizing the tape playing. "I can explain," she said slowly, walking toward the other woman, hand held out in peace. "That isn't what it looks like."

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Lizzie screamed, angry tears rolling down her face as she backed up, unable to look another minute at the woman that had ruined her life. How had she let herself believe that she could have the perfect life, the perfect marriage, the perfect husband? "How long, Emily? How long have you two been tusslin' between the sheets while I've been sittin' around like a knot on a log? HOW LONG?"

"Please, Lizzie," Emily begged, her face contorting as she tried to find an opening to explain the situaiton. "Just let me explain," she pleaded, reaching for the other woman's arm. Oh, God, she thought, how the hell had Lizzie seen this tape?

Jerking back violently as she felt the other woman's finger tough her skin, Lizzie spat violently, "NO! Don't you dare come near me. My mama raised a lady, but so help me God, you take another step toward me and I'll claw your faithless eyes out for the crows to take!"

Turning dizzily, Lizzie jerked the door to the office open before Emily could stop her, running down the hall toward her desk. She had to get out of here. She had to get away from the reminders of her failed life, away from the man that had tricked her into believing that she was something special. Tricked her into believing he would be faithful.

"Lizzie, wait!" Emily shouted, running after her friend, her feet flying against the linoleum as her words carried across the crowded bullpen. "I can explain. Let me just get Dave and..."

"Stay away from me," Lizzie hissed, grabbing her purse with trembling fingers. Turning sharply, she shook her head as Morgan's and Reid's eyes widened from their desks. "You can have him, you hear? He's yours! You just keep him away from me, Emily! I swear to God, I'll kill him if you don't! I ain't gonna take nobody's leavings or get the short end of the stick, you hear me?" Lizzie yelled angrily, sliding into an open elevator as she pressed a hand to her belly. "We're finished!"

Watching as the metal doors slid shut, Emily gasped in sheer horror, wondering again how the past three minutes had turned so horrible so quickly.

"What in the hell is going on?" Morgan shouted, reaching Emily's side as a tear slid down her throat, reaching the top of her silk blouse.

"Find Dave," Emily choked, swiping angrily at her cheek as she took one final look at those closed metal doors. "Find him now! Tell him to meet me in the AV room, Morgan. Hurry!" Emily said, rushing back toward the incriminating video still streaming down the hall.


	119. Chapter 119

**Author's Note: Dear Readers…thanks so much for reading and reviewing. ****As always, we don't own anything associated with Criminal Minds, but we are definitely having fun playing with the characters!**

******Our updates may be a bit slower over the next week as ilovetvalot (Tracia) is currently in the middle of moving into a new home and tonnie2001969 (Tonnie) is dealing with real life issues. ****We appreciate your patience and promise to update as soon as possible.**

**Please take a moment and check out our forum "Chit Chat on Author's Corner." ****We'll be posting new author interviews and writing topics today and tomorrow, and would love to have your input and comments. You can access the forum through the Forum tab above or on ilovetvalot's profile page (click My Forums.) **

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Nineteen**

While Emily was trying to find David Rossi, Elizabeth Winstead Rossi was running as far and as fast as possible in the other direction.

Breaking every speed limit she had ever faithfully obeyed since she had received her first learner's permit, she wiped gallons of tears out of her line of sight as she flew toward her home. No, she told herself when she pulled into the long driveway at Little Creek, brakes screeching, it had never really been HER home. It was still his home. It was just a plain ol' house now, wood and bricks that could be huffed and puffed and blown down with the first threatening burst of wind.

And it was the first place that he would look for her. Which meant that she had to leave. Quickly.

She had no intentions of listening to any lies or tricks he'd try to throw her way if he happened to find her. No matter how pretty he wrapped the package, she knew the truth.

The horrible, painful truth. She obviously wasn't woman enough to hold on to her man.

But then, he'd obviously never been hers in the first place, had he? She shoulda learned that lesson when that painted harlot Lana had made an appearance. But by golly, she wasn't gonna let herself be made a fool of in front of all their friends and family again. And she wasn't gonna subject her baby to a daddy that couldn't keep a promise if his life depended on it. Her baby deserved better.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. And David Rossi deserved all the shame she could heap on his fool head.

Jumping out of the safe, secure SUV that her supposedly loving husband had insisted on buying for her, Lizzie slammed her way into the kitchen that she had spent hours redecorating just to her taste. Refusing to dwell on the fact that she would never see it again, Lizzie forced herself to put one foot in front of the other as she made her way up the stairs, past their framed wedding pictures, to the bedroom.

Their bedroom.

Blinking rapidly, Lizzie told herself that it didn't matter. It was over. All that mattered now was grabbing what she could and running somewhere where she and her baby would be safe, where they couldn't be hurt by this man ever again. Dropping her purse on the burgundy textured comforter that she had just bought last week, Lizzie ignored the flash of memory of exactly what she and Dave had done under those covers just that morning.

Drawing in a deep breath, she let that blasted incriminating video play through her mind again. She wasn't the only one he'd been under the covers with. And that thought spurred her forward.

Jerking the same suitcase that she'd used on her honeymoon out of the closet, she crammed just enough clothes in it to get her through the coming days. She still had no idea where she was going, but she wasn't staying here. Ever again. She should of known that if she lied down with a dog, she'd wake up with fleas. Well, no more.

The silence of the room shattered then, a loud ringing blasting through her mind. Visibly flinching at the sound, she didn't need to look at her cell phone to know it was him. Or Aaron. Or one of those other so-called friends and co-workers. They were probably all getting a good laugh at her expense now, all of them in on the cover-up. Well, she wasn't going to give any of them the benefit of a response. Silence was golden, and she was about to make full use of that very benefit.

Digging through her purse, she grabbed the vile vibrating instrument. And one glance showed her it was indeed her faithless, feckless husband, his name flashing on the tiny display. And in that second, Lizzie knew what pure anger felt like as she drew back her hand and walloped the phone against the far wall, shattering a lamp as the so-called unbreakable plastic flew apart in a dozen different directions.

But she didn't care. She no longer cared about anything other than getting herself and her baby out of this hellhole that was currently her life.

A new wave of tears fell as she slipped into the oversized bathroom, her fragile emotions rising to the surface once again as she sidestepped shards of the broken Tiffany lampshade. Raking her cosmetics into a travel bag, she reached to open the over the sink cabinet, only to feel her breath catch as she came face to face with her stack of pregnancy tests. Fighting the unbidden memories that came to her mind, she couldn't help but remember Dave holding her and crying with her when they lost the first baby, of countless times she'd cried her eyes out because one of those horrible things showed up with only one line. And he'd been there every time.

No, he hadn't, she told herself strongly, slamming the cabinet to stare at her frazzled reflection in the mirror. He only pretended to be. He was too busy screwin' the very woman she considered to be one of her best friends while she was mourning the loss of their baby. And God only knew how many other women had been in there, hidden in the shadows, just waiting for their chances to ruin her life.

He must have really been laughing at her behind her back, thinking her to be this naïve little country bumpkin who wouldn't ever think of suspecting him of stepping out on her. No wonder he was so jealous, she thought darkly, giving her all that chatter about how a man only wanted one thing and that she was so clueless to the ways of the sophisticated world. He apparently knew first-hand what he was talking about.

Pressing a quivering hand to her still-flat belly, she whispered, brokenly, "I promise you, baby, somehow your Mommy'll give you a good life. We'll figure it out together. And ain't no man ever gonna hurt you, you hear me? Never."

Dragging herself back into the silent bedroom, she reached for her suitcase just as her wedding rings flashed in the morning sunlight. Stopping stock still, she stared at those jewels, letting her mind remember, just for that second, how it had felt to put them on for the first time. Frowning at the memory, she took in a deep wavering breath as she slipped the platinum band and the sparkling diamond over her knuckles. Dropping them on the pillow that was on Dave's side of the bed, she stared at them, realizing that this was the most serious decision she'd ever made.

But those rings signified that she was bound to him with an unbreakable tie, 'til death they did part. Perhaps that death had just happened, she thought sadly, her soul already dying by degrees. And as naked as she felt without them, as bare as her soul felt, she refused to tie herself for a lifetime to a man who wasn't making that same commitment to her.

Moving on autopilot to the small desk in the corner that she had found at a flea market and dragged home, making Dave spend the weekend refinishing it, she grabbed a piece of the petunia covered stationary that her mother had given her for her last birthday. And half a minute later, she slipped a folded note underneath those glimmering rings. Ignoring the tightness in her chest, she turned back toward her desk, intent on grabbing the rest of the stationary, knowing her Mama had spent time searching just for that perfect gift.

Sighing heavily, she clutched the letter box to her chest, tears coming again as she thought of exactly how she was gonna explain this to her Mama. Oh, Lord Almighty, how could she tell her Mama and Daddy that they'd been right way back at the beginning? David Rossi'd been nothing but a lyin', cheatin', faithless snake in the grass only out for one thing – to get into her pants. And she'd let him! She'd fallen hook, line and sinker for his knight-in-shining armor act and let her poor family do the same.

No, she told herself sternly, she couldn't go home to them. Not in this shape, not until she knew how she was gonna take care of herself and her baby.

Shaking her head, she roughly forced her thoughts back to the present. About to turn from her desk, she caught sight of the small white card that she'd kept tucked into the corner of her organizer. The name and address were familiar, since she'd sent a get-well note to that person just a few weeks ago, knowing that her friend was suffering from a spring cold. And in that second, she knew exactly where she was going and what she could do. This was the one person that would take her in without any questions, comments, or third degree. And without immediately ratting out her location to the man that was surely to come looking for her.

Five minutes later, that small plain card shoved into her skirt pocket, Lizzie once again barreled down the driveway and away from Little Creek. Away from the home she had shared with her so-called husband.

And away from any chance of a perfect future that she'd once dreamed of.


	120. Chapter 120

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Twenty**

Slamming open the door to the A/V room, Derek Morgan stared at the shaking raven-haired agent who was currently staring at the flickering television screen. "Dammit, Emily," he snapped as he stepped next to her, "Tell me what the hell happened! And why did Lizzie scoot out of here like a bat out of hell?"

Jerking her head toward him, Emily demanded, sharply, "Did you find Dave? Where is he?"

Nodding toward the open door, the sounds of the BAU bullpen filtering through, Morgan answered, "Reid's calling for him now. He and Hotch were supposed to be meeting with the Director and a group from the Department of Defense about field-working the BAU method into the CID for the Army. He's probably out of range and…"

"He can't be out of range. If he's out of range, then he's going to miss Lizzie," Emily exclaimed, her eyes widening as she grabbed for her phone, intent on calling Hotch herself. She would never know how in the world she had been caught in the middle of what could turn out to be World War III, but now that she was, she was unwilling to let the battle escalate without attempting to stop it.

"Look, Em, you've got to give me a clue! Tell me what happened," Morgan urged, realizing that the situation was extremely volatile if the normally staid Emily Prentiss had been shaken to this extent. In his time working with her, he could only remember one other time when she had seemed so rattled. And that situation had ended with the death of an old friend and a shaking of her faith.

Shaking her head as she just pointed toward the screen, Emily picked up the remote control and rewound the picture. As the grey and black lines jumbled, she whispered, "She saw the video for the case in Houston. The one where Dave and I were undercover because we matched the victim profile."

"So? I don't see how that…." Morgan's words trailed off as his eyes focused on the sights on the screen, of the TV Emily and the TV Dave kissing and sharing a bed. Wincing as he realized exactly what Lizzie must have thought, he muttered as he rubbed his hand over his head, "Oh, shit. This ain't good."

"You got that right," declared Penelope Garcia, stomping loudly into the small room, flicking on the overhead lights as she glared at the two agents standing in front of the TV. Propping her hands on her hips, she demanded, looking around the room, "Reid told me what happened. Where is Super Agent Rossi and why isn't he running after his little wife PDQ?"

"Reid's trying to…." Morgan began, about to parrot the same information he had just told Prentiss, only to have Penelope interrupt him.

"I think this is one of those times when a personal visit's gonna be necessary, not some freaking phone call," Garcia snorted, nailing them both with another one of her patented glares, obviously intending for one or both of them to move their feet in the direction she intended.

Dropping the remote control to the table with a clatter, Emily squared her shoulders as she said, her voice even but slightly strained, "I'll go to the Director's office and find Rossi personally. He needs to hear it from me anyway."

"I'll go with you, Prentiss," Morgan added, following her out of the room. Calling over his shoulder, he ordered, "Garcia, you and JJ try to get a hold of Lizzie. Find her, stop her, do whatever you have to."

Watching as the two agents ran toward the elevator, their steps sure, Penelope could only hope that they were soon enough to save Cinderella and Prince Charming from ending up in Judge Wapner's Divorce Court.

Slipping out into the small outer office, David Rossi hurried across the plush carpet as he came to stand next to his teammates, his eyes darkening as he met their worried gazes. Motioning them toward an alcove out of the main traffic, he snapped, "What's with this note that says there's something wrong with Lizzie? What happened? Is she okay?"

"Look, Rossi," Morgan began, stepping forward as he met the older agent's flashing eyes, "There's no easy way to say this, but Lizzie…."

"No, Morgan, I need to do this." Interrupting, Emily shook her head as she moved Morgan to the side. Squaring her shoulders again, she said firmly, "Lizzie saw the video of the Houston case when you and I had to go undercover as lovers. She jumped to the wrong conclusion, and she ran out, Dave. We tried to stop her, but…"

"But what, Prentiss?" Rossi demanded, his eyes darkening to a deadly shade of black as his hands clenched at his side, his mind already moving in a direction that was not going to be conducive to happy and productive thoughts.

"She didn't believe me when I said nothing happened. She said she's leaving you, Dave," Emily finished, shrugging helplessly, her hands dropping to her side. "She thinks you and I have been having an affair."

"Garcia, Reid and JJ are trying to find her, but we've not heard anything yet," Morgan added helpfully, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he prepared for the eruption he could see brewing in the senior agent's eyes.

"Tell them to try harder," Dave yelled, his voice carrying across the marbled office, bouncing against the far windows. Turning his glare on Emily, he snarled, "God damn it, how could you let her leave thinking that? You know Lizzie's not been in the best frame of mind over the last few months. She's…."

"I tried, Dave," Emily interrupted, raising her hands to forestall his attack. "But she wouldn't listen. She didn't give me a chance to…"

"It wasn't Emily's fault, Rossi," Morgan interrupted quickly, his jaw tightening as he looked from teammate to teammate. "Right now, you need to find your wife rather than place blame."

Grabbing for his cell phone, intent on locating his wayward wife, Rossi stomped toward the door, yelling over his shoulder, "Get me back to the BAU. I've got to get to Lizzie before she does something crazy."


	121. Chapter 121

******_Author's Note: Many, many thanks to all the wonderful readers taking time to review, favorite and alert our stories. We are truly grateful to each of you. Please travel over to our new forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" and check out our latest interview with the lovely, talented JenRar. We also have a new thread started called, "Grins and Grimaces of the Fanfiction Site". Hope you all find something there that you enjoy. And as ever, if any of you have any requests for threads or author interviews, please let us know. We love hearing from you. Thanks so much! See you Tuesday!_**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-One**

Endless phone calls later, all going to her chipper, vibrant voice mail, Dave stomped into the fourth floor BAU offices, his intentions clear. He was going to find his wife and make her understand that what she thought had happened hadn't. Damn it, how could she ever think that he'd cheat on her? He loved that crazy little minx more than life itself, and he wasn't willing to give her up for anything.

Feeling the gnawing in the pit of his stomach deepen as he passed her empty desk, he moved toward the AV room, following Morgan and Prentiss. He needed to see what Lizzie saw, needed to know what she was thinking. Although, he had a pretty good idea of exactly what was going through her mind. And none of it was good.

Stepping into the small room, he came face to face with a very agitated and angry Penelope Garcia seated at the wooden table. Peering at him over the top of her colorful glasses, she angrily tapped on her laptop as she pointed in his direction. "You are in big trouble, mister, if you let that precious thing get away, do you hear me? I helped convince her to marry you, so by God, you'd better make sure you stay that way, you hear me?"

"Focus, Garcia," Dave demanded harshly, dialing Lizzie's number again, desperate for any connection to his wife at that point. "And find her SUV. It's got Lo-Jack," Dave growled, barely resisting the urge to hurl his phone against the wall when he heard her voice click on again. "And then show me what the hell my wife thinks she saw."

Tapping her computer, Garcia glared at the elder profiler. "She doesn't think ANYTHING, Rossi! She knows what she saw." Gesturing toward the television, she shook her head as she held her hand in front of her eyes. "It's already cued up to the incriminating point. I can't watch it again."

Snatching the remote from the desk, Dave violently hit play and watched what he knew appeared to be a film of him crawling all over Emily Prentiss' semi-nude body. And based on what the casual viewer observed, it looked as though they were having a hell of a time.

What Lizzie never got to see, however, was how the room had been stormed by the rest of the team and various law enforcement when the unsub, a masked tall blonde man, had emerged from the closet. She missed how her husband had stumbled to the bathroom after the apprehension and lost his lunch; the act of touching another woman physically rendering him ill.

Goddamn it to hell! This was bad in ways he didn't want to fathom, and he knew if the situation was reversed and it was Lizzie he'd watched with another man, he'd be homicidal. "It wasn't like this...it was a job," he whispered, trying to convince himself as much as the other people in the room. "I'm going to lose my wife over a fucking mistake!"

"No, you aren't," Penelope snapped, lifting her head as she smacked the screen on the laptop. "Her SUV is still at Little Creek, Agent Rossi!"

Swallowing the bile in his throat as he comprehended that ray of sunlight in the clouds, Dave forced himself to move toward the door as Hotch burst in.

"Have you found her?" Hotch asked bluntly, eyes wide with worry as he stared at the man that had become his family.

"Garcia says the SUV is at the cabin," Dave growled, searching his pockets with shaking hands for his keys.

Snatching the keychain from Dave's hand, Hotch shook his head. "Give me those. You aren't in any shape to drive. And when we do manage to find Lizzie, I don't want to have to explain to her why I let her husband get in a car wreck AND gave the orders that put him in a bed with Prentiss. I've got a feeling the latter has ALREADY signed my death warrant!"

Opening the SUV passenger door before the vehicle even came to a full stop, Dave jumped down, moving toward the back door of the home he had built. "Her SUV's still here, Aaron," he called out, letting out a sigh of relief as he saw the maroon Denali that his wife had fallen in love with parked sideways next to the back deck. That was a good sign, wasn't it?

Hearing Hotch's steps behind him on the wooden deck, Dave barreled through the security system and into the house, yelling immediately, "Lizzie? Lizzie, honey? Where are you?"

"Knowing my cousin, she's not going to answer you immediately," Hotch muttered, hot on the steps of his in-law, well aware of the idiosyncrasies of his cousin.

"No, knowing my wife, she's curled up in the bathtub with the door locked, and I'll be forced to remove another set of hardware just to explain to my wife how colossally stupid we've all been," Rossi snapped back. Motioning toward the den, he ordered, "You check downstairs to make sure she's not burning all my pictures in effigy. I'll check upstairs."

Not bothering to wait for Aaron's answer, Dave took the stair steps two by two, intent on reaching his bedroom and seeing his beautiful wife with his own two eyes. Hearing a clatter as he reached the top step, he realized he'd knocked a picture off the wall in his haste, but he didn't have time to stop for niceties.

Stepping into the bedroom, his eyes immediately roamed the room as he called out, "Lizzie? Lizzie, babe? Come on, honey, we need to talk!" But there was no answer. No answer whatsoever. A quick glance in the adjoining bath and closet assured him that she hadn't resorted to her normal tricks, although he would have been thrilled to remove hinges at this time if it meant she was near.

His steps faltered when he saw her phone shattered on the floor, along with the shards of the lamp that had once stood in the corner. Feeling his jaw tighten, he knew that his wife's temper had apparently made an appearance.

Standing perfectly still in the middle of his bedroom, he let his eyes room around the large room, taking in every nook and cranny as he tried to determine what was missing, what was different. And it was only when his eyes landed on the very bed that they had shared just a few hours earlier that he saw the most incriminating evidence of all.

Her rings. His Lizzie had taken off her rings. The rings that he had slid on her fingers, promising to be faithful to her, for better or for worse, 'til death they did part. Staring blindly down at the rings, Dave's vision blurred for a moment as his heart pounded in his chest. Swallowing tightly, he noticed a folded piece of stationery beneath the rings. Carefully picking up the circles of platinum and diamonds, Dave felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he flipped open the piece of paper. Four written words, written in Lizzie's precise handwriting, stared back at him.

_You broke your promise._

Fighting down the urge to howl, Dave tightened his hand around her rings. NO. Not like this. He wasn't losing another woman...especially the only one that had ever managed to capture his whole heart...go. Not today. Not tomorrow. _Never._

And dropping to the bed, David Rossi proceeded to do what he did best.

He began to profile his wife.


	122. Chapter 122

******_Author's Note: A quick thanks to everyone still following along with our stories. We genuinely appreciate each one of you. Please, travel on over to our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" and read our latest interview with the multi-talented bonesbird. As ever, we don't own Criminal Minds._**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Two**

Two week later, a haggard David Rossi invaded Penelope Garcia's personal space in just the same way he had every day since his wife had disappeared. It had become his morning routine, such as it was, to review any piece of information that could possibly lead him closer to the woman he loved. And the one person capable of finding that information was the FBI's best computer analyst and on his staff.

Throwing her door open into the small area, he stomped into the bright room, glaring at the sunshine that dared beam through the side window. "Anything today, Garcia?" he bit out, running a hand over the back of his neck as he stared down at the blonde bent over the desk.

Glancing up as she finished booting up one of her many computers, Garcia looked at the clock in the corner of her computer screen. "Sir, it's just after five in the morning. I just got here, Agent Rossi. What time did you get here?"

"Never went home," Dave muttered, dropping his hands into his pockets and balling his fists as he waited, not so patiently, for the answer to his earlier question.

"Sir...you've got to sleep," Garcia replied quietly, her eyes scanning his face, easily noticing the extra lines and wrinkles that had taken up residence.

"Not until we find her...find something. A woman doesn't just disappear without a fucking trace, Garcia," Dave ground out, his eyes narrowing as he added, "We're missing something."

Sighing, Penelope shook her head, the same response she'd given him every day over the past weeks. She was familiar with this side of Rossi by now. It had been the same routine since the day their precious Elizabeth left. "Agent Rossi, she took her old car. It doesn't have GPS. We've got a BOLO out on it. We've got her name flagged with all the major airports and bus stations in a hundred mile radius. There's been no bank activity since she cleared her personal accounts the day after she left. I've flagged her name in every data bank I can think of. Frankly, sir, I'm at a loss," Garcia said morosely as she typed her password into her system, her multiple screens suddenly flashing to life.

"Just let me know if you find something, Garcia," Dave sighed as he digested that depressing information, turning toward the door.

Eyes widening as she stared at the center screen, Garcia jumped in her seat, bouncing excitedly as she read the information flashing in bright letters. "Sir! Sir, I've got something."

Turning sharply at the sudden change in their normal routine, Dave rushed to the blonde technician's side. "What? Is it Lizzie?"

"Y-yes, sir," Garcia said uncertainly, reading quickly as she tried to make sense of this newest clue

.

"Well?" Dave growled impatiently, leaning over her shoulder, attempting to decipher the small letters on the bright screen.

"Uhmm, according to the records at George Washington Memorial Hospital, Lizzie filled a prescription yesterday. She used Little Creek's address but she paid cash."

"She's still in D.C.!" Dave smiled, relief violently flooding over his mind and body as he let himself take a deep breath. But his relief suddenly turned to worry once again as he bit out, "Wait! A prescription? She wasn't sick! What was it for, Garcia?"

Spinning her chair to look sympathetically up at Dave, wishing that she wasn't the one to have to tell him this new information, Penelope whispered, "It was for folic acid, sir. Prenatal vitamins."

He couldn't help the hope that swelled in his chest just then, the feeling of pure joy that overwhelmed him. She was pregnant. His Elizabeth was pregnant with his baby. They had created a new life, a child of their own. And apparently, she was far enough along this time that she was taking steps toward the future.

His mind kicked into gear then, realizing that if she was already that far along, then there was more to this picture than he had first realized. Snapping himself back into the present, he ordered sharply, "Garcia, check Lizzie's medical and insurance records. Get me the name of any doctor she might have seen before we lost her."

"You got it, Super Agent," Garcia murmured, her fingers flying across the molded keyboard as she stared at the multiple monitors. Smiling grimily seconds later, she called out, "Bingo. I've got a Dr. Wilson that filed an insurance claim on Lizzie. And…." She paused, reading the information quickly, "Yes! It was for the day before she left. Office visit and laboratory tests."

"I want his name and number, Garcia. Now!" Rossi barked out, his fingers tapping impatiently against his leg as he fought the rising emotions. Surely Lizzie wouldn't have left him knowing that she was pregnant, would she? The caring, sweet woman that he knew as his wife wouldn't cut him out of his child's life. That just wasn't the Lizzie he knew.

Seconds later, slapping the white piece of paper into his outstretched hand, Garcia whispered, her eyes kind but worried, "I hope this helps, Agent Rossi."

Nodding tersely, he stomped out of Garcia's cave, his phone already in his hand as he quickly dialed, praying that he was going to find some little shred of information that would lead him back to his wife.

And an hour later, he did know a little more. First, he knew his beautiful wife was ten weeks into the first trimester of her second pregnancy. Second, he knew he was going to be a father for the first time in his life. And third, and probably most importantly, he was certain that when he did find the elusive Elizabeth Rossi, he wasn't certain whether he'd kiss her or strangle her within an inch of her life. It was very possible he'd do both.

But first he had to find her. Because despite all his hounding, coercing and outright bribing, Dr. Wilson had remained firm. He would not divulge whether he knew Elizabeth's whereabouts. He wouldn't give up a damn thing. It had been the fucking nurse that had given him the few kernels of information that he HAD managed to gain.

Based on Hotch's intelligence, not a soul in Piermont knew of the current trouble he was facing. Which meant Lizzie wasn't going back to Georgia. At least not at the moment.

Which meant she was in DC. But where? Now that was anybody's guess.

The only thing he knew with bone deep certainty was that he'd find her. He had to. Because she hadn't just taken his child away from him...she'd taken his heart and soul as well.


	123. Chapter 123

**Author's Note: Once again, we want to thank everyone for continuing to read, review, PM, and favorite this story. We are very appreciative of your support and love to hear from you! Please take a moment to check out our new author interview with Thn0715 posted on our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner." As always, we don't own Criminal Minds! **

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Three**

While David Rossi might not know where his elusive wife was, one person was very aware of her presence, having been giving her free room and board for the past six weeks.

Watching as her young charge sipped slowly on the frosty glass of ginger ale, Gertrude Hollister nodded approvingly as she patted Lizzie's thin shoulder. "That's it, dear," she said encouragingly, propping another pillow behind the young woman's curl-ridden head. "Take it nice and slow, and that pesky morning sickness will be gone before you know it."

Smiling weakly over at the elderly woman, Lizzie swallowed another sip as she murmured, tiredly, "From your lips to God's ears, Gertie. I gotta tell you, they leave this part out of those pretty brochures they give you at the doctor's office. Otherwise, I don't think anybody would even think of havin' babies!"

"Just keep telling yourself that this will pass. And from what I hear on those specials that Oprah does, this is a good sign," Gertie replied, settling in the antique wing-chair beside the window of her well-appointed drawing room. "It is an excellent indicator that your wee one is coming right along."

Nodding, Lizzie let her head drop back on the convenient pillow as she felt the worst of the sickness pass. Staring up at the paneled ceiling, she sighed, "I guess I should count myself lucky. My friend JJ went through months of this with both of her babies, tossing her cookies day and night. I'm only sick for a little bit each morning, then it passes."

"See, that's the way to view things. Always look at the glass half full instead of half empty," Gertrude smiled, reaching over to pat Lizzie's delicate hand.

Cocking her head as she drew her knees up to her chest, Lizzie muttered, "Kinda hard right now to keep that positive attitude, Gertie. I'm still comin' to grips with the fact that my little bunny's daddy's a cheatin' liar."

"Now, Elizabeth," the elderly woman said firmly, leaning forward in her seat, using her cane for leverage, "We've discussed this many times over the past six weeks you've been here. You can't change the past. If I could have seen your future that first time you and I met in the restroom of that restaurant, why, I'd have dragged you away from that man myself and taken you right back to Georgia on the next train. But you, my dear, are in the driver's seat. You can make the best choices now for you and that little one."

"Have I told you how much I appreciate you takin' me in and lettin' me work for you?" Lizzie said gratefully, looking over at the woman that she had come to think of as another aunt. "If it hadn't been for you, I don't know what I would have done."

"Pssshaw," Gertie waved her thanks off, settling back into the morning sunshine as she smiled sweetly at the little thing stretched out on her sofa. "You've given this old woman a new lease on life, dear. I've needed someone to organize my home and all of my social commitments, and you are just the ticket. And the thoughts of little feet pattering through my house is just such a wonderful blessing." She paused then, and added kindly but firmly, "But dear, you do need to speak to your parents at some point in time. Your dear mama must be worried sick."

"Gertie, you know my brother Ray knows that I'm okay," Lizzie hedged, turning her head away so that the older woman couldn't read her eyes. Usually this conversation let to a discussion of her husband, and she just wasn't in any shape to deal with that topic right now. Just thinking about Dave made her heart break each and every time, and she couldn't take any more sorrow today. Maybe never.

The tinkling of the old fashioned telephone interrupted their conversation, and Lizzie leaned over the edge of the sofa to reach for the heavy black handset before Gertie could. Answering professionally, she intoned, "Mrs. Gertrude Hollister's residence, may I help you?"

"Lizzie, girlie, that you?" Ray's voice came through the line, his drawl a balm to her weary ears.

Covering the receiver, she smiled at Gertie's inquisitive eyes as she whispered, "It's Ray. I won't be long."

Waving in her direction, Gertie reached for her morning paper as she whispered back, "Take your time, dear. Take your time."

Nodding, she pressed the receiver to her ear again as she said, cheerfully but warily, "Bubba, you know I love you, but it's eight AM. What in the name of Sam Houston's got you callin' so early?"

"Look, LizzieBear, you know I wouldn't call if it wasn't important," Ray began, staring around at the white, sterile hallway of the local hospital in Piermont, Georgia, as he cupped his hand over the phone, "But we've got problems. Is Miss Gertie there with you?"

Narrowing her eyes, Lizzie said slowly, her heart dropping, "She's right here, Ray. What's wrong?" Her jaw tightening as she squared her shoulders, she muttered sharply, "Ray Winstead, if you've told that scoundrel where to find me, I swear I'll.."

"No, Lizzie, I haven't, though that's something you and I'll continue to keep discussin' at length." Drawing in a deep breath, he said quickly, "Sissy, it's Daddy. He's had a heart attack. And he's going into surgery sometime soon. Mama wants you to come home, LizzieBear."

"Daddy's had a heart attack?" Lizzie whispered, her hand pressing against her own chest as she felt her stomach tighten and roil. "Ray, he's gonna be alright, ain't he? Tell me he's gonna be alright!"

"Just come home, Lizzie," Ray encouraged her, pressing the phone tighter as he saw his mother coming toward him. "Soon, Lizzie. We're at the Piermont General Hospital. Call me when you're coming in so I can meet your plane." Nodding at his mother's pained face, he said quickly, "I gotta go. Just get home, Lizzie."

* * *

_**This may be our last post for the weekend. Between moving, kids out of school, yard sales, hospitals, and so much more, real life is demanding precedence. We appreciate your patience, and hope to have new chapters up on all our stories in just a few days.**_


	124. Chapter 124

******_Author's Note: Thanks to everyone that has been patiently awaiting updates. Real life has been a crazy, frenetic blur of activity on both my and my co-author's part. Hopefully, it will regulate in the next few weeks. Until then, postings on everything a couple of times a week is the best we can hope for. Again thank you to everyone that is still reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting these stories. It means a lot. Please stop by our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" and get to know the multi-talented Kavi Leighanna, one of our core Hotch/Prentiss writers on the site. And, as always, Tonnie and I own nothing._**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Four**

Running into Dave's office six weeks to the day since Elizabeth Rossi had disappeared from their radar, Hotch met Dave's dark gaze with anxious eyes. "I know where she is, Dave?"

Looking up from the file spread across his desk, Dave's heart stopped as he heard Aaron Hotchner's words echo in his ears. "What? Where?"

Shaking his head, Aaron held up a hand, forestalling the questions that he knew were sure to come. "Scratch that, Dave. I meant that I know where she'll be. Listen, Ray just called me. He's been holding out on us. Evidently he had a number from Lizzie and he just used it. Dave, Uncle James had had a heart attack. She's on her way home. To Georgia. I've already got Garcia getting us plane tickets."

Jerking up out of his seat, Dave reached for his overnight bag with one quick motion as he rounded his desk. "Is she okay, Aaron?" Dave asked quickly, knowing how much Lizzie loved her family, his worry for her increasing exponentially at this new news.

"Ray said she was shaken, but handling it so far. Look, Dave, maybe I should go alone...try to talk to her first. You could come..."

"Fuck you," Dave bit out, his free hand fisting at his side as he took another step toward the door. "She walked out on me without giving me a goddamn chance. She took our unborn baby with her. I'm not waiting another goddamned second. I want my wife back, damn it!"

"Dave, you know as well as I do that once Lizzie's decided..."

"She can fucking undecide, damn it! I love her! I've lived in hell for six fucking weeks, wondering if she was safe...if she was healthy. Screw waiting! I'm getting my wife back and I'm doing it today!"

"Then grab your jacket and get whatever else you need ready," Aaron stated, nodding once as he moved toward the door. "We've got a plane to catch."

Stepping into the bright main hallway of Piermont General Hospital, Elizabeth Winstead Rossi pressed a hand to the small swell of her stomach as she reached for her companion's arm. Smiling tightly, she murmured, "You doing okay, Gertie?"

"I told you I'd be just fine, dearie," the older woman assured her, pounding her cane against the linoleum as they moved down the crowded hallway. "Your nice brother didn't need to drop us off at the door. I could have walked just fine from the parking lot."

"You're in the South now, Miss Gertie," Lizzie grinned in spite of herself, in spite of the gravity of the situation they were facing. "Ray would sooner chop off his right arm than show less than proper respect for his elders."

Any response Gertie might have had was lost as a gentle voice called Lizzie's name. Turning quickly, Lizzie found herself wrapped in her mother's comforting embrace, her head leaning against her mother's strong shoulder. Hugging her tightly, Lizzie whispered, tears filling here eyes and her words, "Oh, Mama, I've missed you so much!"

"You're home now, baby," Anne Winstead whispered back, hugging her only daughter just as tightly. "And no more of this nonsense, you hear me? You're gonna be with your family so we can take care of you and that grandbaby of mine!"

Pulling back, shocked, Lizzie stared into eyes that were identical to hers as she asked, amazed, "How'd you know, Mama?"

"Honey, ain't much makes a woman run 'cept protectin' herself or her younguns," Anne answered simply, rubbing a gentle hand against Lizzie's tiny baby bump. Shrugging, she added with a grin, "And your brother let the cat out of the bag this mornin'. Thought I might not need one shock too many today of all days." Cocking a delicate red brow, she added, peering at Lizzie's traveling companion, "Now, I'm assumin' this is the nice woman whose hospitality you've been enjoying?"

Quickly introducing her mother to the older woman, Lizzie waited for them to exchange pleasantries before she asked, anxiously, "How's Daddy, Mama? All Ray could tell me is that he's restin' comfortably now."

Leading her daughter and her guest over to a small alcove filled with plastic chairs, Anne sank down against the vinyl as she said, tiredly, "Doc Madison says that he's had a mild heart attack. But it's the blockages that have them worried. If your stubborn father cooperates, it 'pears he'll be havin' a couple of those bypasses done tonight or tomorrow."

"But he'll be okay after that?" Lizzie asked, taking a moment to beg God for a miracle once again. She had spent the entire flight down to Georgia making that very plea, and she could only hope that the Almighty was getting the message.

"We hope, LizzieBear, we hope," her mother nodded. She paused then as she cocked her head, taking a moment to think as she said, slowly, "But I want to know about you, honey. Start talking and tell me everything, you hear? And I don't want you to leave out anything."

Gertrude piped up then, pulling up on her cane as she said, cheerfully, "I think I'll let you two get reacquainted while I find the cafeteria. Can I bring anyone a cup of coffee?"

After giving their drink orders and watching the older woman shuffle off down the hallway, Lizzie and her mother shared a long-overdue heart to heart talk, smiling politely as various people interrupted to offer their well wishes for Mr. Winstead's quick recovery. Finally ending the talk, Lizzie muttered to her mother, "All I know, Mama, is that I never ever want to see that cheater's face ever again in my life. He's hurt me worse than anyone ever did before, and I hope God yanks him up by his toenails and dangles him over the devil's own fire for what he did to me!"

Her eyes widening in sudden surprise while her daughter was speaking, Anne Winstead took a deep breath as she pressed her hand to her daughter's knee. "Well, honey," she said slowly, motioning toward the hallway, "I think the Good Lord might have other plans. It appears he thinks you two ought to make each other's acquaintance once again."

"Mama, what in the world are you talkin' about?" Lizzie asked, confused, turning to follow her mother's gaze. And at that moment, she felt herself rising slowly to her unsteady feet as she came face to face with the man that she had sworn she would never talk to again.

David Rossi had found his wife. And by the look on his face, he didn't look very happy.


	125. Chapter 125

**_Author's Note: Thanks to everyone still following our stories. We absolutely adore hearing from you. And please, travel over to our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner", for two more interviews with the talented authors, LoveforPenandDerek and egoofy34!_**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Five**

Swallowing hard as she stared at her husband, Lizzie subconsciously dropped a protective hand to her baby bulge as she whispered violently, head shaking, "You shouldn't be here. I don't want you here, you hear me?"

For his part, Dave had no words to describe how just seeing this woman made him feel. Relief flooded over him, knowing that she was safe and alive, and obviously healthy. But then anger came surging back to the surface, and he barely resisted the urge to sweep her off her feet and rattle her until her teeth chattered for scaring him this badly. Forcing himself to step slowly, to not rush toward her, Dave met her gaze head on as he said softly but firmly, "Lizzie. I've missed you."

Jumping to her feet, Lizzie hissed, "Leave now! This is a family crisis and you sure as the dickens ain't no family of ours! Not anymore! Not after what you've done!"

"Oh, I'm family, Elizabeth. You've got something of mine that very definitely connects us," Dave said, leveling a heated gaze at the obvious baby bump beneath her shirt, his heart stuttering for a moment as he realized that she was indeed pregnant with his child.

Stumbling backward, her knees bending slightly as she banged against the chair, Lizzie shook her head. "No! NO!" she shouted, both hands pressed tightly against her belly button. "Don't you dare even think it, David! This child is mine! Mine, alone!"

Quickly stepping in front of her daughter, effectively and protectively shielding her, Anne Winstead pulled herself to her full height as she looked between Dave and Aaron Hotchner. "Aaron, did you bring him here?"

"Yes'm," Aaron bobbed his head once in deference to his aunt. "And Aunt Anne, Lizzie needs to hear him...us...out. Things aren't as they seem."

"So," Lizzie smiled grimly at Aaron, her eyes narrowing in her cousin's direction, "he cuckolded you, too, huh?" Glaring at Dave, Lizzie said bitterly, swallowing against the bile rising in her throat, "Guess I wasn't the only soul you played for the fool, am I? Where's your flavor of the month, husband?" Lizzie sneered, eyes narrowing. "Did you stash her at some cheap sleazy motel. Better be careful," she drawled, forcing her tone to remain much calmer than she actually felt. "I do believe Emily Prentiss is used to the finer things in life."

"Lizzie, you need to let me explain. Please, sweetheart, we can straighten this out if you'll just sit down and listen to me for a few minutes," Dave urged gently, glancing to the side as Ray and Tommy joined the group.

"So you can fill my ears with more of your filthy lies? So I can listen to you tell me that I couldn't have seen what I saw? I watched the tape, David! I KNOW what I saw!" Lizzie shrieked, unable to stop the pain from seeping through her voice as she stared at the man that she had promised to spend the rest of her life with.

"What the hell is he doin' here, Aaron?" Ray groaned across the room, glaring at Dave as he gently pulled his sister back. "Get him out of here!"

"What the hell is goin' on?" Tommy yelped, looking from Ray to Dave and then back at Lizzie, well aware of his sister's fragile condition and his mother's warning not to upset her any more than necessary.

Pointing an accusing finger at Ray, Dave growled darkly, "Stay out of it, you liar. I asked you point blank if she was here, Ray. Weeks ago, damn you."

"And she wasn't," Ray snapped in return, keeping his arm firmly around his sister's quaking shoulders. "Then, next day, LizzieBear called me cryin' her eyes out, damn you! Seems that you didn't quite tell me the whole story. Either of you," Ray hissed as he included his cousin in his tirade, fists clenching at his side as he continued, "I heard exactly what she saw on that video of yours, you bastard! Way I see it, Rossi, don't nobody here owe you a damn thing besides an ass kickin'!"

Listening as accusations and insults were hurled around her, Lizzie swallowed tightly as a wave of dizziness suddenly assaulted her. "Mama," she said weakly as lights danced behind her eyes and her knees suddenly turned to a mass of jelly.

Turning at the tiny voice, Anne's eyes widened on her daughter's pale face. "Lizzie, honey?" Mama murmured as she automatically reached out a hand as her young pregnant daughter weaved unsteadily on her feet.

"Elizabeth!" Dave shouted, lurching forward as his wife's eyes fluttered and her body collapsed forward.

Catching his wife's frail body as she pitched toward him, Dave felt his breath tighten in his chest as he swung her up into his arms. Easing down into a nearby chair as he cuddled her closer, he tapped her lifeless cheek as he demanded, frantically, "Lizzie! Honey, wake up!"

But his attempts at reviving her were to no avail. Staring wildly around the small gathered group, he asked sharply as he stood up with his gentle burden, "Where's the ER in this place? We need to get her to a doctor who knows what the hell he's doing!"

"Think it's a bit too late for you to be actin' all concerned about Lizzie's welfare," Ray bit out, glaring at his brother in law as he reached to take his sister out of the other man's arms. "She's our family and we'll be takin' care of her now."

"What she needs is to be left alone from all this foolishness and nonsense," Anne spoke up, her tone brisk and brooking no argument as she stepped between the two bickering men, her eyes glued to her daughter's lily-white face.

Turning toward Aaron, Dave snapped, his voice hovering on the edge of sanity, "Aaron, find me a doctor or I swear to God I'll…"

But before he could finish his threat, he felt the tiny woman in his arms stir, her head shifting against his shoulder. Easing back down in the seat, he pressed a gentle hand to her cheek as he said, softly, "Lizzie! Come on, honey. Open those eyes for me so I'll know you're in there."

Blinking slowly, all Lizzie could see was wavy lines for a moment as she tried to figure out where she was. She could feel strong arms safely wrapping around her, and she snuggled toward that security, knowing instinctively that she trusted that feeling. Finally getting her eyes completely open, she stared up into the dark, worried eyes of the man that she called husband.

"There you are," Dave said with a sigh of relief, helping her to sit up better as he asked, his hand immediately dropping to her stomach, "Honey, what hurts? Is the baby okay?"

Frowning as she watched her son-in-law flinch as Lizzie's eyes slid shut again, Anne felt Aaron move to her side. "Listen to me! All of you!" Aaron Hotchner waited until he had the full attention of the small gathered group. "Dave did not cheat on Lizzie. Auntie, I'll swear it on a stack of Bibles."

"He did what?" Tommy yelled, unaware of the full story or the situation between his sister and brother-in-law until that very moment.

"How can you say that, man!" Ray growled, reaching for his sister again, keeping his hand firmly on her shoulder. "He's on a damn video makin' time with that uptown piece ya'll dragged down here from the wedding! My sister saw it, buddy, so how you gonna be explainin' that?"


	126. Chapter 126

**__****Author's Note: Many, many thanks to everyone who continues to read, review, alert and favorite our stories. We truly appreciate each and every one of you. Today, please travel over to our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" and check out our latest "Getting to Know You" interview with the very talented LacytheDemonicDuck. And please, drop us a post or PM and let us know your thoughts on the forum. We'd love your input. Thanks again. And, as always, we don't own Criminal Minds.**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Six**

"And what he did, he did on MY direct order! We were trying to trap an unsub! That's all!" Hotch insisted, his worried eyes watching Lizzie's pale face as he mentally prepared to referee the largest battle in the history of his family.

Lips tightening at the fiasco unfolding before her, Anne shook her head as she moved toward her unconscious daughter. "Not a lick of that matters right now! Right now, we need to take care of my little girl. Time enough to talk about the damage ya'll did her, later. Tommy Joe, go find us a nurse," she ordered as she reached out a hand, pressing her palm against Lizzie's clammy forehead.

"Heavens! What in the world!" Gertie gasped as she joined the group again, her cane tapping against the hard floor.

Looking up askance from Lizzie's still face, Dave frowned in momentary confusion at the sudden appearance of the grey haired lady. "You?" he whispered, narrowing his eyes on his geriatric attacker from months ago, his mind futilely attempting to juggle this new information.

"Yes, me," Gertie drawled imperiously as she plopped down into the seat beside him, shifting her cotton dress around her as she turned a stern glare on the dark headed man. "So, the errant husband is back to cause more trouble. Don't you think you've caused that young woman in your arms enough pain?"

And suddenly it made sense to Dave. Of all the people he might have suspected to have been involved in Lizzie's attempt to hide away, this old bat had never even entered his thoughts. Tightening his arms protectively around Lizzie's slight body, Dave whispered harshly, "She's been with you. This whole time, she's been right there with you. Literally in my own backyard!"

Raising a regal eyebrow as she acknowledged his words but not his sentiment, Gertrude inclined her head. "I gave a friend in need much needed sanctuary." Looking toward Lizzie's mother, Gertie asked kindly, "How long has she been out this time, dear?"

"Only a few minutes. Tommy's run to fetch the nurse," Anne replied unconsciously, keeping her hand pressed against Lizzie's head in silent hope.

"Wait!" Dave growled as he shifted, turning to glare at the older busybody, her question triggering one of his own. "This has happened before?"

"Expectant mothers are easily overwhelmed, you dolt," Gertie bit out, meeting his glower with a much sterner version of her own. "And YOU have been quite overwhelming to our girl since she learned of your indiscretions."

"I didn't HAVE any indiscretions," Dave whispered, glancing down at Lizzie's slack face, his fingers cupping her all too pale cheek as he once again fought the panic rising in his mind. Snapping over his shoulder, he demanded, "Where's that nurse? Or a doctor? This can't be good for Lizzie or the baby!"

"She'll come out of it soon. And if you don't want it to happen again, I suggest you keep the stress to a minimum, sonny," Gertrude informed him sharply, rapping her cane against the tiled floor. "She needs to be with her family and people who really care for her."

"I'm not the one who's been hiding her from her family for months, lady," Rossi snapped. Feeling the tiny woman in his arms start to stir, her eyelashes fluttering, he forgot all about the old bat as he whispered gently, "Honey, I'm right here."

Tommy stepped back into the small group just then, leading a white-clad older woman wearing a nurse's cap with him. "Got a nurse, Mama. Miss Lucille said she'd take a look at LizzieBear."

Nodding toward Anne Winstead, the nurse said quickly, "Anne, what seems to be the problem? Tommy Joe said little Lizzie was in the family way and had fainted."

Pleased to see one of her fellow church members, who just happened to be the head of nursing for their local hospital, Anne murmured, "She's fourteen weeks along, Lucille. And this ain't the first time she's hit the ground, apparently."

Clucking her tongue as she approached Lizzie, the kindly woman met Dave's dark eyes as she placed a soft hand on Lizzie's forehead. "If I remember correctly, you're the husband, right? Saw you at the weddin' last year."

Not exactly capable of remembering the hundreds of guests that had attended his nuptials, Dave nodded tersely as he shifted his half-conscious wife in his arms as he said, worried, "This can't be normal for her to faint like this, can it?"

"Stranger things have happened," Lucille clucked noncommittally as she reached for Lizzie's wrist, quickly measuring her pulse. "Let's move this little mama into a room across the hallway and give her a once over." Looking over her shoulder at one of the younger nurses that had joined their group, she ordered, "Mary Beth, grab that ultrasound machine from up the hall and bring it over into 4B."

Standing with Lizzie in his arms, Dave growled in defiance, his gaze including every person in the small group, "I'm not leaving her."

"Didn't expect you would," Lucille retorted, pointing at the open door across the hall. "Just take her in there and lay her down on the bed. I'll be with you directly. Anne, you can go, too. The rest of ya'll, wait out here."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Mama," Ray said in a low voice, glaring at Dave's retreating back.

Looking around the gathered faces, well aware of the disagreement currently dividing her family, Anne shook her head. "Maybe. Maybe not. But I've gotta feelin' don't none of us know the whole story here. Lizzie included. Might be time we found it all out, don'tcha think?"

"Yes, Mama," Ray sighed in defeat.

"All right then. I'm goin' to see to your sister. In between everything else, don't forget to check on your father. And you and Tommy get with Aaron and figure this mess out, hear me? I've had enough of this foolishness." Anne ordered sternly before marching across the hall, slamming the exam room door shut behind her.


	127. Chapter 127

**__****Author's Note: Many, many thanks to everyone who continues to read, review, alert and favorite our stories. We truly appreciate each and every one of you. Today, please travel over to our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" and check out our latest "Getting to Know You" interview with the very talented ArwenLalaith. One of the premiere talents on this site, she's also recently taken over the Criminal Minds Fan Fiction Awards. Also, we have another discussion thread open called, "Creating the Perfect Marriage with Dialogue and Description" Please, drop us a post or PM and let us know your thoughts on the forum. We'd love your input. Thanks again. And, as always, we don't own Criminal Minds.**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Seven**

Gently placing his precious burden on the paper-covered examination table, Dave kept his hand pressed against Lizzie's clammy forehead as the nurses bustled around them. After weeks upon weeks of literally worrying himself sick over whether she was alive or dead, sick or well, he couldn't let go of her now that he had found her again. No matter how angry he might be. And it was obvious to him now that his anger no longer mattered, not when the memory of her collapsing in his arms was so fresh in his mind.

Watching as the younger nurse attached a blood pressure cuff to Lizzie's thin arm, Dave found himself praying once again, this time begging Lizzie's God for just one more favor, just for her and the baby to be okay. Feeling her head move underneath his fingers, Dave let out a sigh of relief as he watched her eyes open completely. Stroking her cheek softly, he whispered hoarsely, "Lizzie, it's okay. You're in the hospital, honey."

Anne Winstead stepped up behind him, peering over her shoulder at her youngest child as she said, gently but firmly, "Now lie still, little one. No more moving around until you get the all clear from someone with a medical degree, you hear me?"

Drawing in a sharp breath as her eyes moved frantically around the small room, Lizzie croaked, her voice weak, "What happened?" Training her eyes on Dave's serious expression, she tried to push up on her elbows as she whispered, "And why are you here? I can't be…."

"Okay, young lady, now that you're awake and with us again, let's get a look at what's going on with you and that little bundle of yours," Nurse Lucille interrupted as she stepped up to the exam table. Checking the reading on the BP monitor, she clucked worriedly as she said, shaking her head, "Gonna have to watch that blood pressure, Lizzie. It's a little too high right now."

"How high?" Dave demanded, his hand sliding down to Lizzie's shoulder as he pressed her too-thin frame back against the rattling paper cover.

"One forty over ninety. It's not out of the ballpark, but it's higher than I'd like for Lizzie's condition," Lucille replied, motioning for the other nurse to push over the ultrasound machine. "Right now, let's get a look at the baby. Now, Lizzie, have you had an ultrasound yet?"

Nodding, her red curls bouncing against Dave's hand, she whispered, "One time. The doctor did an ultrasound when he confirmed the pregnancy." Swallowing hard, she pressed a hand against her tummy as she tried to pull up again, her tone frantic, "Tell me my baby's okay! There can't be anything wrong! I've fought too hard for this one!"

Catching the look in the nurse's eye, Dave sighed as he tangled his other hand with Lizzie's, squeezing gently as he murmured, "We lost a baby at less than eight weeks."

Nodding once as she patted Lizzie's arm sympathetically, Lucille turned to MaryBeth. "Page Dr. Drury."

"Who's that?" Dave asked sharply, glancing over his shoulder at his mother-in-law, searching for an answer.

"OB on duty this afternoon," Lucille replied, expertly squeezing the cool jelly on the small swell of Lizzie's belly. "Just to be on the safe side, honey," she told a wide-eyed Lizzie, recognizing the fear and anguish in the young woman's eyes.

Biting down on her lower lip, Lizzie swallowed tightly as she nodded, her head jerking. Feeling Dave's fingers tighten around hers, she tried to slip her hand from his grip, but he only tightened his hold, refusing to release her.

Resting the probe against her belly, Lucille smiled as she observed the grainy image on the monitor. "Now, honey, I ain't no MD, but that there," she said, tapping the rounded screen, "is a beating heart goin' ninety to nothin'. Real good sign, honey," she enthused.

Watching the screen with wide eyes, Dave felt tears stinging his eyes. "Can you tell anything else?"

"Depends," Lucille said cryptically, looking from Lizzie's now relieved face to her husband's. "Can ya'll keep a secret? I don't want that ole sawbones fussin' at me all afternoon 'cause I told you what you was havin'."

"You can tell?" Lizzie gasped, unconsciously squeezing Dave's hand in hers as she pushed up again, the sudden surprise at that piece of information filling her with anticipation.

"Sure can. Plain as the nose on this ole face of mine," Lucille grinned.

"Do you wanna know?" Lizzie whispered softly, without looking at Dave, but knowing that he heard her just the same.

"I want whatever makes you happy, sweetheart," Dave whispered back, resting his forehead against her shoulder as he tried to get his raging emotions into some kind of control. Of everything that he had attempted to prepare himself to face during this meeting with his runaway wife, finding out about the gender of his unborn child had never entered his thoughts.

Nodding at Lucille, Lizzie choked, swallowing tightly against the tears clogging her throat, "We wanna know."

"Honey, I hope you like pink because this child is all girl," Lucille winked as she shifted the wand against Lizzie's gelled belly.

"I'm having a daughter?" Lizzie asked hoarsely, not quite sure that she heard the nurse correctly. After weeks of wishing and hoping, she was almost afraid to believe the good news now.

"Clear as a summer rain, you are," Lucille confirmed, smiling widely at the couple as she winked at Lizzie's mother.

"And she's…she's..okay?" Lizzie whispered, fear filling her voice as she felt Dave move closer, his hand smoothing her hair back off her forehead.

"I don't see anything out of the ordinary, honey," Lucille replied, her eyes watching the monitor. Reaching over, she flicked a switch, a whooshing sound filling the small exam room. "Now, that's what your little one thinks about all this hoopla. She's snug as a bug as a rug in that tummy of yours."

Reaching up a shaking hand, Lizzie swiped at a tear that leaked down her cheek as she whispered, "That's her heartbeat, isn't it?" Without thinking, she whispered, "Do you hear it, Dave?"

"I hear it, babe," he choked out, his heart swelling tightly in his chest as he realized that he was looking at and hearing his daughter for the first time ever. "And she sounds wonderful."


	128. Chapter 128

_**Author's Note:**__**Calling all writers! Please check out our new writing challenge on our forum on **__**"Chit Chat on Author's Corner" **__**(you can find the link on my profile page.) In order to expand our horizons and stretch our writing wings, everyone who joins the challenge will be writing an exciting new pairing. By signing up, you'll get to suggest a pairing for someone else to write in addition to agreeing to write yourself. The story can be a drabble or an epic, romantic or friendship, AU or canon, angst or comedy…or anything in between. As the author, it is your choice to determine the direction and plot…we'll just be providing the pairing. We're certain that this will result in some fantastic stories, so check it out today! And feel free to email, PM or post to the forum thread if you'd be interested in participating. Also, please check out our newest interview with the fabulous Angel N Darkness, another of our site's many talented authors.**_

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Eight**

A knock on the door sounded, breaking the spell in the small room, and a short, balding man entered quickly, a stethoscope wrapped around the collar of his long white coat. Meeting Lucille's eyes, he rolled his own as he said, mock-threatening, "Oh, good golly, woman, don't tell me you've already done my job for me again. The hospital board's gonna fire me if they find out all I'm good for is comin' along behind you and actin' like I did the job!"

"Hush your whinin' and act like the doctor you're supposed to be afore these people think you're tetched," Lucille chastised the newcomer, smiling kindly to soften her words. Nodding toward Lizzie and Dave, she said, more formally, "Now this is Dr. Drury. Taught him everything I know, so you're gonna be in good hands, sweetie."

Twenty minutes later, Dr. Drury looked up from his examination with an honest smile on his face. Patting Lizzie's arm, he declared, "All right, Mrs. Rossi, everything here looks to be normal other than your elevated blood pressure. And based on your familial troubles, I think that's understandable. What I want you to do is lie here and rest for the next couple of hours."

Shaking her head as she attempted to push up off the flat pillow, Lizzie objected, "But Daddy-"

"Would want you to do everything this young man says to keep his granddaughter safe," Anne Winstead interrupted from the foot of the bed, her arms crossed over her chest as she smiled firmly down at her youngest child. "Besides, your daddy is gonna be groggy from all those tests they've done. He won't even notice you're missin' til you get there, honey. I'll watch after your father."

"And Atlanta's top cardiologist will be here in the next hour to look things over," Dave added calmly from his position beside Lizzie. "I had Garcia track him down."

Surprised, Anne shifted her gaze to the son-in-law that just mere minutes earlier she'd been ready to throttle. "You did that?"

"James is my family," Dave shrugged, meeting his mother-in-law's eyes before shifting his gaze back to his wife. "I always take care of my family," he added evenly, watching Lizzie stiffen and avert her face. Nodding at the others in the room, he said, "If you'd both excuse me, I'd like to talk to my wife now. We have a few things to clarify between us."

"Just holler if either of you need me," Dr. Drury nodded, excusing himself quickly.

Waiting until the door closed behind the white coated man and the nurse, Anne assessed the couple before her with a measured look. "I don't know if that's a good idea. Lizzie?"

"He won't go until he says his peace, Mama," Lizzie said quietly, staring at her hands, clasped over her stomach in silent protection over her baby. "Sooner he says it, the sooner he'll leave us all in peace."

"I'm not going anywhere, Elizabeth," Dave said steadily as he eased down on the stool beside the bed. Turning his gaze to Anne, he offered quietly, "There's been some things that happened that looked fairly incriminating, ma'am, I can't deny that. But, I swear, I haven't betrayed your daughter. And I'll explain that to her as soon as I can have a few minutes alone with her."

"I'm not leaving this room unless my little girl says she's comfortable with this," Anne replied firmly, her lips pressing into a straight line. "Lizzie, honey, it's up to you."

Nodding without looking up, Lizzie whispered, her fingers plucking at the edge of her blouse, "I'll hear what he has to say, Mama. He can't hurt me anymore than he already has."

Wincing at her words, Dave looked at his mother-in-law. "Please," he said softly, that one word hanging in the stilted air.

Nodding, Anne looked from her daughter to the man still purported to be her husband. "I'll be just outside, honey. Shouting distance," she added with a hard look at Dave.

Waiting until he heard the door click soundly, Dave turned back to stare at his wife, her pale face pinched as she refused to look him in the eyes. Sighing, he leaned against the edge of the exam bed as he said, softly, "I've missed you, Elizabeth."

Pursing her lips as she dropped her head back against the small pillow, Lizzie stared up at the paneled ceiling as she snorted, "Sure got a strange way of showin' it. Appears you weren't even all that int'rested in me when you had me."

Watching as she pushed a curl out of her face, Dave frowned as he watched her hand shake, the tremble obvious. Narrowing his eyes, he asked, seriously, "Lizzie, when was the last time you had something to eat?"

"It's a little too late to be playin' the concerned husband card right now," Lizzie snapped back, her short bark of a laugh anything but humorous. "I think you've done proved to me and my whole family that there's someone else fillin' your thoughts and your bed, David Rossi." Shifting against the uncomfortable exam table, she tried to adjust the pillow, reaching far behind her to pull it into place.

Knowing that she wouldn't respond well if he touched her right now, he shoved his hands in his pockets, hoping that would keep him from making a foolish mistake. And as he did, his right hand hit a paper package, the crunch beneath his fingers reminding him immediately of what was in there. Pulling out the small bag, he quickly ripped it open, pouring a few of the brightly colored candies in his hand. "Open up, Lizzie."

"In case you missed the memo, I ain't exactly in no mood to listen to anything you have to say, let alone take an order from you," she shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. But her eyes softened for a moment when she saw the handful of candies. Narrowing her gaze, she asked, suspiciously, "Is that what I think it is?"

Nodding, Dave held up the bright paper wrapper. "Skittles. They're your favorite."

"And you just happened to have them with you? What'dya think, Dave, that I was some lost puppy dog that could be bribed with a few treats and made to forget? I fell for that little trick once, you lyin' fool," Lizzie hissed suddenly, hot tears filling her eyes once again as she swiped angrily at her cheeks.

"I've never lied to you, Elizabeth," Dave said quietly, clenching his other hand around her metal rings in his pocket, the diamond cutting into his palm.

Snatching the candy out of his hand, Lizzie glared at him even as she popped a piece into her mouth. "You're lyin' right now!"

"I'm not," Dave said carefully, shaking his head as he forced himself to guard his words. "There's been no woman but you in my heart and my bed since well before the day I proposed to you."

"You're right," Lizzie smiled bitterly, chomping down hard on the small round treat. "It wasn't your bed, was it? It was some cheap little hotel room in the middle of nowhere. With my friend. My husband and my friend. My Lord, it's something off of one of Aunt Myrtle's afternoon shows."

Swallowing tightly, Dave eased up onto the bed next to Lizzie's hip. "What you saw wasn't the whole story, Lizzie," he said quietly, pouring more candies into her now empty hand.

"Sorry, watchin' you two slobber all over each other was as much as I could stomach. So you're right, I didn't stick around to watch the main event. My apologies," Lizzie hissed bitterly, stiffening beside him as the blood pressure cuff began to swell around her arm again. Reaching up automatically to rip it off, she felt Dave's strong hand cover hers.

"Don't," Dave said quietly, easing her fingers away from the velcro. "They need to monitor you right now. You heard that doctor."

"And you did, too. I believe he said I needed to remain as stress-free as possible and this ain't exactly no walk in the park, blast it! Why don't you just slither back beneath what rock you crawled from under?"

"Because I love you. I miss you. And I'm not leaving this hospital without you, Elizabeth," Dave said with quiet sincerity, his words filled with a solemn promise. He had lost his wife once. He'd be damned if he'd willingly leave her now that he had her again.


	129. Chapter 129

_**Author's Note: **_

_**And please, check out our writing challenge on our forum on **__**"Chit Chat on Author's Corner"**__** (you can find the link on my profile page.) In order to expand our horizons and stretch our writing wings, everyone who joins the challenge will be writing an exciting new pairing. By signing up, you'll get to suggest a pairing for someone else to write in addition to agreeing to write yourself. The story can be a drabble or an epic, romantic or friendship, AU or canon, angst or comedy…or anything in between. As the author, it is your choice to determine the direction and plot…we'll just be providing the pairing. Thanks to everyone who has signed up so far….and it's not too late for YOU, too! Feel free to email, PM or post to the forum thread if you'd be interested in participating.**_

**_And please, check out our newest interview over on "Chit Chat". We're talking to the lovely and talented CMali today._**

**Southern Traditions**

**One Hundred and Twenty Nine**

Lizzie felt her lips tighten as she listened to her husband's so-called heartfelt declaration of love. "If you're so hellbent on a-waitin' for me, then you're in for an awfully long wait. I don't lie down with cheaters. I told you once that I'd rather be your widow than your wife if you did something like this to me. And I meant every word," she said, eyeing him dangerously as she let a piece of the candy melt against her tongue. "You both made a fool out of me once! I'll not live through the shame a second time!"

"Lizzie, no one did anything to make a fool out of you," Dave answered strongly, his fingers tightening around hers as she attempted to once again pull her hand away. "What you saw was just the first part of an undercover sting operation. Emily and I were the bait."

"Not even a blind man's gonna believe that tale, Dave," Lizzie snorted, shaking her head as she reached for another one of the candies. Crunching violently, she snapped, "I know what I saw. Pictures don't lie, unlike you."

"But the rest of the video would have showed you the real truth," Dave continued with a deep sigh, pouring more of the candies out in his hand. "Five more minutes and you would have seen our unsub rush out of the closet in that motel room. We were the setup to trap a man that had been killing honeymooning couples all over central Texas."

"You can't expect me to believe that of all the men on the BAU team, that Emily Prentiss had to be paired up with the only married one?" Lizzie asked incredulously, jerking her shoulders straight as she stared into his dark eyes . "I may be young, Dave, but I ain't stupid."

"We matched the victimology, Lizzie. Older husband, younger wife. Dark headed," he replied earnestly, meeting her flashing green eyes as he wondered exactly what else he could say that would break through her protective shell. "You know that I've gone undercover before on other assignments and…"

"And I hope to God that you ain't gonna be tellin' me now that you've kissed and slept with all sorts of other hussies along the way," Lizzie interrupted, grabbing a Skittle from his hand as she added, sharply, ""Cause that's exactly what I saw you doin' with Emily, case or no case."

"No, you saw two agents forced into a situation where they had to ACT like they were sleeping together," Dave insisted, shoving his hand into his pocket, tightly clutching her rings, the urge to shake her nearly overwhelming him.

"Wasn't no actin' goin' on, you...you.. Lothario. Your hands and lips were all over her," Lizzie said through gritted teeth, finally turning toward him and shoving his chest violently.

"For a minute, Lizzie," Dave groaned, quickly regaining his balance as he reached out a hand toward her shoulder. "And you should have kept watching the tape. If you had, you'd have watched the husband you claim to have loved throw up from what I had to do as soon as that bastard was in cuffs. That's the satisfaction I got out of touching another woman, Elizabeth. My stomach in knots and my skin crawled. Did you ever wonder why Hotch came home with a black eye from that case, Lizzie? It was because I knocked the hell out of him after it was over. If you recall, I didn't even want to GO on that assignment. We'd just lost the baby, for Christ sakes. You insisted!"

"So this is my fault?" Lizzie shrieked, tears suddenly rolling down her cheeks as his accusation slammed into her. Wrenching away from his touch, she huddled on the far side of the exam table as she demanded, "Because I sent you on a case, you agreed to lie down with another woman?"

"Dammit, woman, are you even listening to a thing I say? It's no one's fault. Not yours. Not mine. Not Emily's. It was a job I had to do, and I did it. And I hated every fucking minute of it. I hated every moment that I was away from you. I hated every damn second I had to pretend to even look at another woman, let alone touch her," Dave snapped back, his fingers finding her again, tightening possessively.

"Don't you dare yell at me, David Rossi," Lizzie snapped, her watery voice filled with tears as she swiped angrily at her wet cheeks. "I ain't the one that went and broke his weddin' vows. I ain't the one that started cleavin' to another. You promised, Dave! You promised to be faithful to me!"

"And I have been, Lizzie, from the first moment I laid eyes on you," Dave groaned, wondering if they were ever going to be able to get off this merry-go-round without one of them killing the other.

"See, there you go a-lyin' again," she moaned, dropping her head back on the pillow, her free hand dropping to cradle her baby bump. "Seems to me that I remember a painted harlot showin' up and plantin' a big ole kiss on your lips right in front of me just days before our weddin'. And you didn't do anything to stop that one, either! I should have known then and there that a leopard can't change his spots, no matter how pretty his words are."

"Lizzie, we already fought that one out, and you agreed that I didn't do anything to encourage Lana. You can't hold things against me that I didn't do, honey," he replied with a groan, scrubbing his hand over his eyes as he let out a deep breath.

"Fine, let's just say for a minute that I do believe you. I don't. But let's just say that I do," Lizzie snorted, turning her tear bright gaze on him, her bright green eyes daring him to continue along that line of thought.

"Okay, I like the part where you say you believe me," Dave said softly, meeting her gaze levelly, his heart clenching for a second as he realized this might be the break in the dam he had been praying for.

Nodding once, Lizzie whispered around the lump that had suddenly filled her throat, "You still lied. The second you decided not to tell me, you lied. Sins of omission are every bit as damaging as an outright tall tale. The Bible says so."

"You're right. I didn't tell you. Not only that, I made it clear that ANYONE who opened their big mouth would have hell to pay. Because, honey, we'd just lost our child. You were barely hanging on. And there was no way in hell that I was going to allow you to be hurt if I could prevent it. I don't deny that. Maybe it was dumb. But my only objective was to protect you." Pausing to pull in a much-needed breath, he added as he eased down onto the edge of the bed again, "And you can ask anybody on the team if you think I'm lying. Hell, Emily begged me and Hotch to just tell you the truth on the way home. She offered to do it herself. But I told her to keep her fucking mouth closed."

"Looked like you were havin' a pretty good time to me in that video, Dave," Lizzie replied unevenly, her doubts suddenly rising to the surface again as the images from that incriminating tape once again invaded her overworked mind.

"Look at it again," Dave retorted, shaking his head, refusing to lose the small piece of ground they had just gained. "Look at the whole thing and see if you can still say that."

"No. Never again," Lizzie shuddered involuntarily at that thought. "Once broke my heart."

"And sent you running away from me. You didn't even give me a chance, Elizabeth," Dave said huskily, swallowing hard as he stared down into her beautiful face. "I've spent the last six weeks tearing apart DC for the only woman that I've ever really given a damn about. I'm not going back without you, Lizzie. We belong together."

"I thought we did. Once. Now...," Lizzie said, her voice breaking.

"Now, we belong together even more," Dave broke in, soothing a tentative hand over her bare stomach, relishing in the fact that he was actually touching her. Touching their child. "I love you, Elizabeth. That has never changed. And I love our daughter. I will always love both of you and I will fight to the death to prove that to you."


	130. Chapter 130

**_Author's Note:_**

**_First, let us begin by thanking everyone that is reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting our stories. We truly appreciate._**

**_We have several announcements regarding our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" today. First, we have a new interview with another of our dedicated writers, Leigh59, available to read. Also, we have several new discussion threads for you to comment on. Join our lively discussion thread called, "AJ Cook's Contract Not Renewed" and tell us what you think of CM's latest developments. We also have a thread entitled, "Fanfic Challenge 2010 Assignments" where you can see the recently assigned pairings for our first ever fanfic challenge. And finally, we've begun a thread to offer prayers and best wishes for our fellow author, JWynn. We hope to see you all there!_**

**Southern Traditions**

**One Hundred and Thirty**

Closing her eyes against the desire she saw in his gaze, Lizzie tried to force herself to forget how much she actually did love him. And feeling his warm touch against her skin only reminded her of that very fact. Swallowing hard as she pressed her fingers to her cheek, she muttered, darkly, "I'm only gonna say this once, so you best listen closely. I'm not saying yes, but I'm not sayin' no either. Don't make me regret this again, Dave, or I swear by all that I hold holy, I'll take our daughter and you'll be lookin' high and low 'til the Second Coming and you'll never find us."

"Lizzie, I'm never going to willingly put you in this position ever again," Dave assured her, rubbing his hand against her tight skin, fighting the feeling of relief starting to flood through him. "But you've got to promise me that you won't run again without at least talking to me, no matter what the situation is. We've both lost a lot in the past six weeks that could have been avoided if we'd just talked."

"We'd best never have anything to have to talk about, Dave," Lizzie snapped out, opening her eyes to glare at him as she pushed up on one elbow. "Because you can bet your britches that I'll talk so loudly that the man in the moon's gonna hear every word that comes out of my mouth.

"I can handle you angry and screaming, Elizabeth," Dave replied evenly, his eyes meeting hers. "But please, don't disappear again. This..." he said, gesturing helplessly in the air, "this was torture."

"It wasn't easy for me either," Lizzie retorted, wiping her eyes as she felt another tear leak out. "And I'm still not sure that I believe you."

Hanging his head as he let out a deep breath, he murmured, "How can I show you how much I love you if you aren't there, babe? You just don't get it. No one compares to you. No one."

"All I know is what I saw," Lizzie said evenly, watching his face closely. "And I'll never play the fool for you. No matter how much I love you."

"Elizabeth, I'd do anything to take it back. You have to know that," Dave said seriously, shifting against the edge of the bed as he felt her start to turn slightly.

"To take it back or to make sure you never got caught red handed?" Lizzie asked, tightening her arms around herself.

"Take it back. If I could do it all over again, I'd go back to the day that the team left for Texas. And I'd refuse to get on the plane. No matter how much you encouraged me to go," Dave replied, her body language telling him that she was trying to shield herself, to protect herself from further hurts. "I'd never put myself in a position to do anything that could hurt you whatsoever, even if it was for the job. You're more important to me than any fucking job. As far as I'm concerned, every serial killer in the world can go free if it means that I get to keep you."

"Don't ever hide something like this from me ever again, you understand me?" Lizzie whispered, her eyes meeting his as she stared into his frowning face. "And don't treat me like some hothouse flower. I'm strong enough to kick your hindend all over creation if anything like this ever happens again, you got that?"

Holding on tightly to the thin strand of hope that her words were giving him, Dave reached out to cup her soft cheek as he whispered, "There's never going to be a reason for you to ever doubt me, Lizzie. I think I've proven to you that I'll maim anyone who dares to even speak to you in the wrong tone. I'm not going to deliberately hurt you. Never."

"We're gonna keep discussin' this later," Lizzie informed him firmly as she let herself lean into his warm touch. Sighing heavily as she swallowed tightly, she threw up a quick prayer as she muttered, "I hope to God that I'm makin' the right call here. I want to try, Dave. You can stay at least 'til Daddy's better." Pushing up on the crinkling paper, she added, her eyes darting suddenly toward the door, "And speaking of Daddy, I want to see him. I want to know how he's doin'."

"How about we make a deal?" Dave said quickly, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as she seemed to sway as she sat up. Raising her chin with his finger, he cajoled, "You rest here for another moment, and I'll find your mother or one of your brothers to give you an update."

Starting to shake her head, she realized she was still dizzier than she thought. Leaning against his shoulder for a moment, she muttered, "Darn pregnancy hormones. Thought this would be over by now. All those books said said, but I'm beginnin' to think they lied like a dog on a summer day."

"And that's why I think your father will be more concerned that you keep resting. It's not going to do him or you any good if you faint again, Lizzie," Dave replied, holding his breath as to what her response was going to be. While he might have been able to predict his wife's moves once upon a time, now he wasn't certain how she would react.

Slowly turning her head as she gave her body time to calm down, Lizzie stared up into his dark eyes as she asked, "Did you really find a specialist for Daddy?"

"I did," he replied evenly, wondering once again how he had survived these past few weeks without seeing her beautiful face.

"Why?" she asked, simply, letting the word hang between them.

"I remember our wedding vows, Lizzie. I meant what I said when I vowed that your people would be my people," Dave answered, his arm tightening around her frail shoulders. "I respect your father. And I know that you love him. Your family is my family, too, Lizzie. And family takes care of family."


	131. Chapter 131

_**Author's Note: First, let us begin by saying thank you to all those wonderful people reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting this, as well as our other stories. You guys seriously rock! CM readers are the most dedicated folks that we know and we appreciate each one of you.**_

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**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-One**

His simple words, spoken with more emotion than she truly wanted to recognize, seemed to resonate in her soul. For a moment, Lizzie honestly believed that her husband wanted her, wanted their family.

"Thank you," Lizzie said quietly, dropping her eyes guiltily away from his as she felt his hand rest on her baby bump. The warmth of his touch seeped through her skin as she whispered, "I should have let you have a chance to tell your side of the story, Dave. But at the time, I couldn't think for how bad it hurt. It still hurts."

"That was never something I meant to happen, Lizzie. But, it didn't mean anything. I didn't feel anything other than revolted. You have to believe me. You are the only woman I want. The only woman I've ever wanted since the day you crashed into my life."

"I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to look at Emily and not see you two in my mind, Dave. And I don't know if I can live like that," Lizzie confessed, rubbing her eyes as she slowly leaned her head against his shoulder. "Every time I close my eyes for the last month and a half, that's what I see. You two, rollin' around that bed together."

Closing his eyes as her despair ridden words washed over him, Dave swallowed. "Emily Prentiss is nothing more than a colleague and friend. She never has been anything else and she never will be. You have nothing to feel threatened over, Elizabeth. I belong to you."

"Yeah," Lizzie snorted, her red curls bouncing against his jacket as she felt his hand cup her neck. "Unless your case dictates otherwise. Then you all conveniently forget the wedding vows."

Watching as another tear slid down her already tear-soaked cheek, Dave reached out a tentative finger, catching it gently as he stroked her cheek. "I can guarantee that there'll never be another case that I put myself in a position like that again, Lizzie," he promised her, tilting her chin so that he could see her beautiful green eyes.

"No, you can't, Dave," Lizzie disagreed, her lips pursing as she pulled away from his touch, needing the separation if she was going to regain control of her emotions. "Something'll come up while ya'll are out there in the field somewhere far away from me and…"

"I don't intend on being far away from you ever again, Elizabeth. Not now that I've found you and the baby again," Dave interrupted, his jaw clenching at that very thought. "And if my job is the problem between us, then I can take care of that in a heartbeat." Motioning toward the closed door, he continued, his voice hardening with every passing syllable, "I'll march right out there and give Aaron my resignation before you can have another one of those thoughts. I've left the Bureau once. I'll have no problems doing it again."

"Doesn't mean that some other floozy won't come along somehow and snap your attention," Lizzie murmured, shaking her head as she added, dismissively, "And anyway, you love working for the FBI."

"I love you more. Far, far more. The only good thing I ever found in the Bureau was you, Elizabeth," Dave assured her, moving so that his face was directly in front of her. Staring down into her bright green eyes, he raised a tentative finger to stroke her flushed cheek as he added, "And I told you once that I have everything I want at home. There's nothing out there that compares to you. There never will be."

Shaking her head quickly, Lizzie swallowed as she lowered her eyes. "I can't talk about this anymore right now. I just wanna know about daddy. Please?"

"Of course," Dave whispered, easing off the bed. "I'll get you some answers."

"Thank you," Lizzie whispered, her fingers clutching at the hem of her shirt, her emotions on overdrive as she tried to make sense of this entire convoluted situation.

Sighing deeply as he forced himself to be satisfied with the small steps they had taken, Dave leaned down to brush Lizzie's lips with his. Feeling her quickly drawn breath, he kept his caress intentionally light. "I'll be right back. No moving, Lizzie. Remember what the doctor said."

Waiting until he'd gained her assent, her small head tilt telling him all he needed to know, he quickly moved out the door. Glancing down the empty hallway, he frowned until he finally heard footsteps.

"Dave!" Hotch called, walking toward the other man quickly as he rounded the corner. "Everybody's down there talking to the surgeon you called in. He thinks Uncle James is going to need a double bypass. He's going to do it in the morning."

"Is James all right?" Dave asked sharply, biting the inside of his jaw as he waited, knowing that his wife was not capable of any more difficult news.

"Holding steady. The doctor seems to think this will take care of the problems," Hotch nodded. "He doesn't expect any complications. How's Lizzie?"

"Physically, the doctor says she's fine, just dealing with the stress of the whole situation," Dave replied tightly, glancing over his shoulder as he heard a noise, fully expecting his wife to ignore his pleas and the doctor's orders and start looking for answers herself.

"And the other part?" Hotch asked softly, his eyes meeting the older profiler's. "Does she understand?"

"She understands that no matter how we play this, I broke my vows to her," Dave answered, frowning as he shook his head, unwilling to dismiss his part in what had turned out to be the worst moment in his life.

Drawing in a deep breath, Hotch muttered, "Let me talk to her, Dave. I'll tell her it was all my idea and that you only went along to crack the case. She has to understand that."

"I told her that, Aaron. I told her the entire, detailed story. And it all boils down to the fact that I hid something from my wife that I knew would hurt her," Dave snapped, forcing himself to lower his voice, realizing that Lizzie was just on the other side of that closed door. Glaring at his old friend, he added, seriously, "I told her it would never happen again, and I meant it. I'll leave the BAU if it means that Lizzie will rest easier. She's my only priority now."


	132. Chapter 132

**Southern Traditions**

**One Hundred and Thirty-Two**

Lizzie had waited until Dave had left the room, then allowed herself to let out the deep moan she had been holding tightly in. Pressing her hands to her swollen stomach, she had stared down , wide eyed, at the miracle that was her baby as she had whispered, "Oh, sweetie, Mommy never intended for you to have to come into the world like this. I really wanted you to only know peace and love. And I promise that I'll do everything possible to make sure this never happens again." Drawing in a deep breath, she pushed up as she said, to herself and her daughter, "We'll get your granddaddy all fixed up and then somehow I'll figure out how to fix the rest of our lives."

And seconds later, she could have sworn that she felt a small flutter deep inside. Glancing over at the ultrasound machine, she fought down the urge to flip it on and figure out how to see her baby again, to know for certain if the little thing was indeed agreeing with her. But she didn't have the first clue about operating such a thing. Pulling her shirt tighter as she tried to find the buttons, she murmured, "I'm gonna believe that you were agreeing with me, okay? Just trust me, baby."

Opening the exam room door a second later, Dave sighed as he watched Lizzie struggling to sit up and button her shirt. Her pale skin seemed deathly white in the glare of the overhead fluorescent lights, causing him to once again wince at the emotional damage he had done to her already-fragile body.

Lifting alarmed eyes to his, she whispered as her fingers faltered for a moment , "Daddy?"

Moving across the room, Dave brushed her hands away from her blouse, deftly buttoning it for her. "Your father has seen the cardiologist. He's stable. They've decided to wait until morning and then operate."

"An operation?" Lizzie faltered, her hands dropping uselessly to her lap, her fingers clenching and unclenching. "How serious?" she whispered, trying to read her husband's expression and failing miserably.

"A double bypass. They're fairly common operations these days, honey. You're daddy is going to be fine," Dave replied calmly as he finished buttoning her shirt, letting his fingers settle comfortably on her too-thin shoulders.

"C-can I see him?" Lizzie asked anxiously, biting her lip as she cast a worried glance toward the hallway door.

"Of course you can, babe," Dave said quietly, sliding a comforting hand up and down her arm. "But after that, I want us to get you something to eat. I've already booked everybody rooms at the hotel across the street for the night. Your mother insists she's staying with your father here tonight, but the rest of you need a decent night's rest.

"I don't want to leave," Lizzie replied, automatically shaking her head from side to side as she scooted toward the end of the gurney.

"There's nothing you can do here tonight, sweetheart. And I have a feeling your parents will side with me on this one," Dave replied, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear as his other hand pressed firmly to her hip.

"I don't wanna fight, Dave," Lizzie sighed wearily, letting him stall her retreat for the moment.

"Then don't. I promise, honey, if something happens tonight, I'll have you back over here in a flash. But, please, for the sake of our daughter, just go with me on this one."

Nodding finally, Lizzie swallowed, her throat suddenly drier than before. "Okay, but I need something in return. Daddy doesn't know anything about what happened between us...and I don't want him to...not now."

"As far as I'm concerned, we'll do whatever you want, Lizzie. As long as we do it together," Dave said quietly, gazing deeply into her worried blue eyes, wishing he could magically erase the cares hidden behind her gaze.

"Okay," Lizzie whispered, swinging her legs over the side of the bed as she swatted away his hand, "let's just..."

"Wait," Dave said firmly, stilling her movement again. "I've got something that your father might notice is missing, honey." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out her set of rings.

Jaw dropping, Lizzie felt tears rise in her eyes as she recognized the bands that she had never expected to see again. "You brought them," she said faintly, unable to take her eyes off the glimmering jewels.

"They've been with me since I found them the afternoon you left. I couldn't let them go," Dave admitted huskily, picking up her hand and holding it gently. "Think we could put them back on you? Please?"

Blinking as she stared at the flashing diamond lying next to the perfect unending circle, she whispered, "Just for now, Dave. I have to have them on so Daddy won't notice. But afterward…" Her voice faltered as she felt him slide the rings against her finger, nestling them back into that very spot that had been naked without them.

Afraid that she would change her mind, Dave took advantage of her mumbled consent to place the rings that he had chosen especially for her back in the only place he ever wanted to see them. Wrapping his hand around hers, he drew it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against her fingers as he sighed, staring in her eyes, "I love you, Elizabeth. And I'll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you have no reason to doubt that."

Swallowing hard as she swiped at a tear lingering against her cheek, she nodded jerkily, afraid to trust her voice at that moment. Finally forcing the words out of her throat, she whispered, "We'll talk about this, Dave. But right now, I want to see Daddy, okay?"

"Of course, honey," Dave agreed, easing her off the exam bed , her hand still tucked in his. And as he led her out of the small room toward her father, he couldn't help but be grateful that she never pulled away.


	133. Chapter 133

**Author's Note: Hello, Readers! Once again, thank you to everyone that has been reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting our stories.**

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**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Three**

Long and draining hours later, Dave pushed open the door to the hotel room he'd booked for them and eased his young wife inside.

"You're sure that you told those nurses to call us if anything happened, right?" Lizzie asked nervously for the tenth time since they'd left the sprawling hospital. Ever since her mama had almost ordered her to find a bed and lie down, Lizzie had fought the overwhelming feelings of anxiety over leaving her father for even one minute.

"I swear," Dave nodded assuringly, watching carefully as Lizzie wearily dropped her purse to the dresser. "And Hotch is going to stay with your mother the whole time."

Biting her lip as she pressed a hand to her lower back, her muscles tightening, Lizzie whispered, "I think he's mad at me. He must think a lot of ya'll's friendship. He tried to take up for you, too."

"He's not angry with you. He's mad at me. I told him that I was seriously considering leaving the unit and it didn't sit very well with him. He'll get over it," Dave shrugged, slipping out of his suit coat and throwing it over the arm chair in the corner before flicking on the bedside lamp.

"I didn't ask you to do that," Lizzie sighed, watching his face closely as the golden light flickered against his eyes. "And honestly, I don't know if it would make any difference, Dave," Lizzie murmured, rubbing her head then, her headache making another appearance. "The damage is done."

"None of that has to be decided right now, Lizzie," Dave said quickly, wanting to put his anxious wife at ease. "My only priorities right now are you and the baby. And your father. My family."

Moving around her, Dave quickly entered the bathroom, twisting on the taps of the sunken tub as he called out, "I'm going to run your bath and you're going to relax for a while, Lizzie. Remember what the doctor said...you need to take some time and just relax."

"Easy for him to say," Lizzie muttered, kicking off her shoes as she let her body sink against the surprisingly soft king-sized bed. "He isn't the one that has a father in a hospital bed and an estranged husband determined to mess with his mind."

Easing back into the bedroom, Dave moved to squat in front of her, his face level with hers. "I promise you, Lizzie, I'm not doing anything to mess with your mind. I just want to make sure you relax right now. That's all."

"Uh huh," she muttered, narrowing her obviously tired eyes as she pressed her hands against his chest. "You've flown all the way to Georgia, found a specialist for my Daddy, managed to calm my Mama, kept my brothers from knocking you into next year, convinced me to put my rings back on even though I swore to myself that'd never happen again, and booked us into a room that I swannee has to be this hotel's honeymoon suite." Pausing for breath as she struggled to control her thoughts, she challenged, "Try and tell me you're not up to something, Dave."

"Honey, I don't know how many ways I can say it, but all that matters is that you're happy. And that's all I've been doing today, taking care of details so you wouldn't have to worry," he answered, staring into her bottomless green eyes. "Don't question it right now, Lizzie. Just let yourself relax, okay? I know you don't want that obstetrician admitting you to the hospital. And I know he'll do it if he thinks the stress is raising your blood pressure."

"I'm NOT gonna be a patient in that hospital ever again, you hear me, Dave?" Lizzie shook her head, her rumpled red curls bouncing in every direction as she smacked his chest, her energy level suddenly rebounding.

"And I don't want you to have to, Lizzie," Dave assured her, capturing her hand as he pulled her up off the bed and led her slowly to the large bathroom. Easing her down on the edge of the rapidly filling tub, he asked, meeting her tired green eyes, "What else do you need, honey?'

"I need you to make up some excuse and turn your tail around and go back to DC," Lizzie retorted, batting his hands away as they reached for the buttons on her shirt.

"Not happening. I already told you, I'm not going anywhere without my wife. And if that means building a house right here in Piermont, so be it," Dave returned, crossing his arms over his chest. "And you have two choices. Start stripping or I can strip you. Either way, you're going in that tub behind you."

"I am not takin' my clothes off in front of you," Lizzie huffed, tightly clenching her hands against the buttons of her thin shirt.

"Honey, I've seen every inch of your skin," Dave smiled, reaching out to sweep gentle fingers against her shining hair. "I know every part of your body."

"That may be true, but you certainly haven't earned the right to see it again, now have you?" Lizzie asked sweetly, rising from the side of the tub to bend over and shut the water off. "Sides, it ain't the same body you're used to seein' anyway," she mumbled as she felt his gaze burning into her.

"No," Dave said quietly, eyeing her backside, "It's gotten even more beautiful."

"Your silver tongue ain't gonna help you this time, Dave. Why don't you go find one of those statuesque beauties? You know...like Emily," Lizzie bit out as she balanced a hand against the tiled wall. "So beautiful...cultured..."

"And they all pale next to you, Elizabeth," Dave finished for her, shaking his head as he barely resisted the urge to touch her again. "I don't want any other woman but you. For the rest of my life, it's only you."

Refusing to let his words affect her, her heart already tightly guarded, she muttered as she stared down into the shimmering water, "I heard you say those words before. And I think we both know what came of that, don't we?"

Mere seconds later, she found herself spun around, his hands resting on her shoulders as he said, his voice soft but firm, "Elizabeth Rossi, I don't care if I have to say it every moment of every day for the rest of our lives. You're the most beautiful woman in the world. And you're the only one that I want."

Pulling away from his touch, she stepped backwards, needing to physical and emotional distance between them. "You say that now, Dave, but wait until I'm nine months pregnant and bigger than a beached whale. I won't be anywhere this side of a beauty then, and you'll be out searchin' for…"

Stepping toward her, his gaze darkening, Dave stared into her cloudy eyes as he declared, "Lizzie, haven't you figured it out yet, honey? Yes, I love your body. I love every curve, every inch, every sensitive, responsive little inch. And you are absolutely gorgeous to me right now, knowing that you're carrying our child inside of you." Seeing her mouth open in response, he continued, barreling forward, "But it's your very essence that drew me in. If I were to go blind today, I'd still be in love with you just because of who you are. And nothing about that will ever change. Never."

"Get out, Dave," Lizzie muttered defensively, feeling tears rising to the surface again. "I wanna take my bath in peace."

"Fine, but I'll be right outside the door," Dave replied with a sigh, shaking his head at her stubbornness. "There's just one thing first though," he whispered.

"What now?" Lizzie groaned only to feel herself surrounded suddenly by his strong arms. And before she could so much as draw breath to voice a complaint, she felt his familiar lips over hers, molding them to his. Stiffening against him, she meant to push him away when her hands found his chest. But, as his tongue stroked the tight seam of her lips, she gasped, his touch electrifying her.

Never one to turn his back on a golden opportunity, Dave quickly moved inside, his need to possess and conquer rising to the forefront as he tangled his tongue with hers. Groaning at the beautifully sweet taste that belonged to his unique wife, Dave tightened his arms around her small body, pulling her flush with him. Hearing her soft moan, he silently rejoiced as he felt her arms creep around his neck. Pulling away to trail his lips across her cheek, he whispered against her ear, "I'm going to love you every day for the rest of my life, Elizabeth. Every single day."

And he meant every single word.


	134. Chapter 134

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Four**

Dropping her head against her husband's warm neck, Lizzie whispered raggedly, "I didn't want to love you anymore. Told myself I had to quit it like a bad habit."

"And?" Dave asked expectantly, tightening his arms around her, unwilling to let go of his amazing treasure now that he had her again. No sane man on the face of the earth would willingly give up this amazing woman. Never.

"And now I don't know anymore. I know how a drug addict feels, not able to stop doing somethin' that I know can't be good for me," Lizzie moaned against his skin, her body shivering as she felt his hands slide against her hips, cupping her more intimately against him. "I can't quit lovin' you anymore'n I can forget my own name."

"I know the feeling, Lizzie," he murmured, pressing soft kisses down the sleek expanse of her beautiful neck, letting his lips linger on that one sensitive spot that always made her shudder. And as she shook again in his arms, he groaned, closing his eyes almost reverently, "You're in my blood, woman."

Burying her fingertips in his hair, Lizzie whimpered deep in her throat as his fingers deftly slid against the waistband of her skirt, his touch burning against her skin as he swept the loose fabric out of the way, pressing his hands against swell of her stomach. Pressing further against him, she moaned, swallowing hard, "Dave, I don't know…we can't…."

"Shhh, honey," he murmured, sweeping his gentle fingers under her loose shirt, his touch sliding against silky skin that he had been afraid he'd never be able to touch again. Reaching the swell of her heavy breast, he smiled as he felt her shift in his arms, turning to give him better access.

Drawing in a sharp breath as his thumb strummed across her lace covered tip, Lizzie felt an electric surge ride through her body at that simple touch. "Oh, Dave, what are you doing to me?"

"I want to love you again, Lizzie. In every way you'll let me," Dave admitted quietly, the ragged desire in her voice tugging deep inside his soul. "You were meant for me. To fill my arms. I ached for you every single damned night, Elizabeth. And if sex was all it was, any woman would do. But it isn't. It never has been. It's you."

"How do I know if you're tellin' me true?" Lizzie whispered, resting the tips of her fingers against his whiskered jaw, staring deeply into those bottomless depths that she had explored so many times before.

"You already know it in your heart. You know ME, Elizabeth," Dave insisted vehemently, tightening his fingers against her delicate skin. "I know you do."

"I missed you," Lizzie admitted, her voice cracking, the words echoing in the tiled bathroom. "I've cried myself to sleep every night since I left. I wanted to call you...yell at you...scream at you..."

"God, I wish you had," Dave breathed raggedly, the need to feel her body in all of its perfection almost overwhelming him. "The things I've imagined...I've never felt fear like that. And it was all because I was an idiot."

"Promise me, Dave," Lizzie moaned as he pressed kiss after kiss against her flushed skin, her fingers clutching wildly at his shoulders, "Promise me that you'll never be that idiot again. I don't think I can live through it again. I don't this I can…."

But her words dropped off into nothingness as his lips claimed hers then, driving all coherent thought from her already flustered mind. Whispering against her swollen lips, he breathed, "I promise you, Elizabeth. You'll never have another doubt again." Her answering nod rubbed against his shirt as he felt her frail body sway in his arms.

Feeling him start to pull away, his hands loosening, she clutched tighter at his shirt, her eyes widening as she begged, softly, "Don't leave me, Dave."

Dropping a hand back to her hip, tucking her next to his side, he tilted her chin as he assured her, "I'm not going anywhere, honey. Never." Easing her down on the edge of the bathtub, he let his fingers gently slide the shirt off her shoulders as he said, softly, "But you need to relax, honey. And I do remember how much you enjoy a nice, long bath. Trust me, our bathtub at Little Creek has missed you."

Shrugging her shoulders as the fabric slid over her skin, the cool air whispering around her, she grabbed for his shirt again as she said, softly, pleadingly, "Come in with me?"

"I wasn't thinking of going anywhere else," Dave assured her gently, reaching for the buttons on his shirt as he smiled down into her brilliant green eyes.

Minutes later as they sat submersed in the warm bubbling water, he heard Lizzie sigh as he tightened his arm around her, pulling her slight weight back against his chest. Sliding a hand over the small mound that was their daughter, he whispered against the shell of her ear, "How has everything been going so far with the baby, sweetheart?"

Dropping her head back against his neck, reveling in the strength that he exuded, Lizzie shrugged. "I'm sick a lot in the mornings, but the evenings are usually fairly good. 'Cept, I'm tired an awful lot, but the doctor said that's normal. He promised I'd get my second wind any time now. I just wish I could feel her move," Lizzie whispered, covering his hand. "I'd know she was okay if I felt her move."

"We're gonna make sure she's okay," Dave whispered, pressing a kiss against her damp temple as he twined their fingers together, once again promising himself that he would allow them to be separated again.

"I don't think I could stand it if..."

Shifting his wife in his arms, her water-slickened skin sliding against him, Dave shook his head. "Don't go there, honey. Our daughter is perfectly healthy. The good doctor promised me she was."

"It's just been hard, these last weeks," Lizzie whispered thickly, closing her eyes as she attempted to halt the tears that seemed destined to once again flow.

"That's over," Dave said steadily, pressing a soft kiss to her dampened curls. "We're going to get your father through this operation and then we're going home. Together. I'm going to sleep in a real bed again," Dave said with satisfaction, smiling in spite of himself as he reached for the fluffy sponge on the edge of the tub.

"Huh? Do I wanna ask where you been layin' head to pillow, David?" Lizzie asked, automatically on her guard, the worry creeping back into her tone.

"Most nights...the couch in my office. A couple of times, Hotch's couch. And the rest, our couch. I couldn't bring myself to walk into our bedroom, let alone sleep in our bed without you," Dave admitted.

Relaxing slightly as she understood his explanation, Lizzie nodded. "I can't go back to the Bureau, Dave," Lizzie informed her husband softly as he squeezed the bath sponge over her neck. "I can forgive you for what happened. I'll even deal with the knowledge that this situation was out of your control. But, I can't go in there and look Emily in the eye every day and not what to scratch them out. Even if you're a bloomin' idiot, she ain't! She had to know I'd feel like this!"

"She did," Dave admitted, his fingers slipping against her wet skin as he dropped the sponge against her thin arm. "She tried to tell us, tried to tell me, that we needed to tell you immediately. But I didn't want to upset you then, so I told everyone, Emily included, to not mention a word to you. Honey, if I'd known then.…"

"I don't want to talk about it, Dave," Lizzie muttered, unable to hear him even mention Emily's name. "No matter what, she should have known going into that caterwumpus that it was wrong." Shaking her head, she ground out, her muscles tightening, "I can't talk about her right now, okay?"

"Of course it's okay, babe," he soothed as he pressed a kiss against her hair, settling her lower against his chest, rubbing slow circles against her stiffened shoulders. Feeling her start to relax again, her fingers dropping against his thigh, he trailed the sponge over her neck, letting it fall slowly over her perfect breasts.

Drawing in a sharp breath at that simple touch, Lizzie moaned, all thoughts of Emily Prentiss gone from her mind. Clutching at his wet skin, she pulled his hand back up as she whispered, "Do that again."

"With pleasure," Dave grinned, this time letting his fingers sweep against her pebbled nipples, gently tweaking one tip as he rolled the soft sponge around the glistening mound.

Dropping her head back against his shoulder, she moaned, shifting restlessly against his slick body, "Oh God Almighty, I've missed that!"

"I've missed you," Dave whispered, nipping her ear. "I love you, Elizabeth Rossi," Dave murmured, dropping kisses along the line of her shoulder. "I think it's time you and I carried our discussion into the bedroom, don't you?" he asked, warm air gusting against her cheek.

And in that moment, Elizabeth knew that her marriage was indeed going to be safe and secure once again.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Please forgive our extra long rambling today, but we have a lot to share. First, originally we planned to publish all our stories on Mondays. But after realizing we have ten ongoing works, we decided to split them up. So, we will publish five fics on Sundays and five fics on Mondays for the foreseeable future. As always, we will publish the odd oneshot in between, especially when we have notes to share with our readers regarding our forum.**_

_**For those following Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum, we have several announcements. First, we'd like to announce our interviews with the very talented authors Reidfanatic and ConfettiLeaves. Next, please **__**check out our mini-challenge…The Creative Reasons Challenge! Now is the time to put your creative talents to work and write a story depicting the events and/or emotions regarding JJ's departure. It can be a drabble, oneshot or multi-chapter featuring any characters you choose. For more info, check out our challenge thread on the "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum.**_

_**For those of you who want to keep updated on the new threads posted to the forum, you can subscribe by going to the forum page (the link is on my profile page), then clicking "Forum Subscription" in the upper right corner. We have new and exciting discussion threads and interviews, as well as our monthly challenges, planned for the future.**_

_**Again, we want to take this opportunity to thank anyone for reading, reviewing, alerting, and favoriting our stories. We truly appreciate hearing from each one of you.**_


	135. Chapter 135

_Author's Note: We're excited to announce our Round 3 of our Fanfic Challenge on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. The __**Dealer's Choice August Challenge**__ is a great way to stretch your writing muscles! Simply suggest a pairing from the seven main Criminal Minds characters and list three different things to include in the story. (Example: You request Hotch/Emily and your prompts are a starry night, a cashmere blanket and a bottle of Merlot.) Your suggestion will be assigned to another author, and you'll receive a similar suggestion. Your final story must include your assigned pairing and must include at least two of the three prompts you were given in some capacity. Stories can be short or long, romantic or friendship, angst or humor…and anything else in between! Sign ups will continue through August 2, assignments will be given on August 3, and stories are due by August 31! Please visit the forum or shoot us a PM if you are interested in participating. We'd love to have you! And please visit the forum to read our latest interviews with the lovely KricketWilliams and the talented Ahmoselnarus! ! Also, we have began a discussion thread for our fellow author, Angel N Darkness, who was in a serious car accident on Sunday. Please say a prayer for her hasty recovery and visit the thread to leave your best wishes. Updates on her condition will be posted there as we receive them._

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Five**

Feeling her nod against his cheek, Dave rose behind her, slowly helping Lizzie to her feet. Standing her beside the tub, he dried her glistening body with slow sweeps of the fluffy towels the hotel had conveniently provided before carefully lifting her in his arms.

Carrying her into the bedroom, Dave placed her gently in the center of the king-size mattress. Smiling as she held her arms out to him, he went quickly into those welcoming arm, kissing her deeply as he pressed her damp body against the soft sheets. Tangling his legs with hers, he whispered, "Are you sure you're up for this? I don't want to push you for something you aren't ready to give me yet."

Swallowing tightly at his heartfelt words, Lizzie nodded. "As long as you're sure that it's me you want to be makin' love to."

Sweeping tender fingers against her jaw, his wedding ring flashing in the dim light, Dave stared at her with darkened eyes. "You're the only woman I'm ever going to want to make love to, Elizabeth...the only woman I've made love to since you crossed my path the day you came to work at the Bureau. You're the only woman that's ever satisfied me...that could ever satisfy me. I've been faithful, Elizabeth. Before and after you left."

Biting her lower lip as she heard the passion behind those sure statements, Lizzie whispered as she pressed her cheek against his fingers, "I worried, Dave. I worried that you might find someone else. Even as mad and hurt as I was, I couldn't help but think that…"

Pressing a soft finger to her full lips, he rubbed the spot her teeth had worried as he shook his head. "There never was or never will be anyone else. You're it, now and forever." Watching as her eyes suddenly clouded and dropped, he tilted her chin, ordering softly, "Tell me that you believe me, Lizzie."

Pulling her eyes back up to his, Lizzie stared into his deep, dark orbs as she whispered, shaking her head, "God help me, but I do."

And that was all the encouragement that he needed. Capturing her lips with his, he swept his tongue into her moist cavern, gently matching her tentative thrusts.

Tightening her fingernails into his strong shoulders, Lizzie moaned into his conquering mouth as she felt his hand drop down her stomach, sliding across her hip. Easing her legs apart, she pulled him closer to her, needing to feel his touch, his weight.

And Dave immediately obliged her, sinking into the perfect cradle her body made. Tearing away from her luscious lips, he left a trail of kisses across her flushed skin as he travelled a leisurely route. Flicking the bud of a perfect, waiting breast, he reveled in the moan that escaped from her body. Drawing the tip into his mouth, he sucked gently, his fingers busy giving some much needed attention to her other breast.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," Lizzie groaned, tossing her head to the side as she arched against his amazing lips. "I don't remember it feeling this good before!"

Groaning his agreement, Dave laced his fingers with hers as he thrust slowly, carefully into her heat. Hissing as her body warmly grasped his, Dave growled against her neck, "Don't ever walk away from me again. Scream at me. Yell at me. Shoot me, for God's sake, but don't leave, Lizzie. I'm begging you, don't leave me again."

Shaking her head mindlessly as she lifted her hips to him, she raggedly whispered, "I won't. I swear I won't!"

Passion carried them swiftly to the edge, each straining for release as they clutched at each other, desperate to hold on to what they'd recovered. Screaming hoarsely as her husband pushed her over into a churning maelstrom of pleasure, Lizzie tightened her arms around him as his raw groan of completion was torn from his throat, bouncing off the walls of their darkened hotel bedroom.

"God, that was good," Dave sighed, rolling to his side and pulling Lizzie's satiated body to his. Dropping a kiss against her sweaty neck, he lifted himself on one elbow, peering down into her lax face. "Honey?"

"I'm here," Lizzie said dazedly, her tongue thick as she swallowed. "I'd forgotten how good that was between us."

"Don't worry. I'll make it a point to remind you every chance you give me," Dave chuckled, running his fingers through her damp tangled curls. Staring down at her, the bedside lamp casting a faint golden glow around her, he whispered reverently, "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

Sighing as she tried to catch her breath, her heart still beating rapidly in her chest, Lizzie murmured, "You don't have to keep telling me that, Dave."

"Why wouldn't I? It's the truth, Elizabeth," he growled, dropping a kiss against her damp forehead. "And trust me, woman, it's not a chore to say. It's a privilege."

Smiling tiredly, she stretched slightly against his strength as she whispered, afraid to break the spell they seemed to be under, "It's kinda nice to hear every now and then."

"Then expect to hear it every day for the rest of your life, honey," Dave assured her, shifting them both against the pillows as he watched her stifle a yawn. "And as much as I'd love to spend the rest of the night showing you just how beautiful I think you are, I think it's time for you and the baby to catch up on your rest."

Trying to raise up from the pillow, Lizzie protested weakly as she felt him pull away, "But I'm not sleepy, Dave. I just need to catch my breath then…"

Spooning in behind her, Dave pulled her supple body back against him as he interrupted, "How about we both catch a nap, honey? It's been a long day, and the coming days are going to be even longer." Tugging the soft blankets over their bare bodies, he added, a smile in his voice, "And I'd really like to spend a few hours just holding my wife and my daughter."

Tugging his hand over her stomach, Lizzie let her head loll back against his shoulder as she sighed, "Your wife and daughter would like that."

Stroking gentle fingers over the rounded curve that protected his only child, Dave whispered into the darkness, "I'll bet that she's going to be beautiful just like her mama. All sugar and spice, with an attitude that will keep us on our toes for years to come."

And with that thought, Mr. and Mrs. Rossi fell into the most restful sleep either of them had had for months.


	136. Chapter 136

_Author's Note: We're excited to announce our Round 3 of our Fanfic Challenge on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. The __**Dealer's Choice August Challenge**__ is a great way to stretch your writing muscles! Please see the forum for further details. We'd love to have you! And please visit the forum to read our latest interview with the simply amazing __**JWynn**__! And, please remember our fellow author,__** Angel N Darkness**__, who was in a serious car accident on Sunday. Visit the discussion thread to leave your best wishes. Updates on her condition will be posted there as we receive them. We've also added two new discussion threads, __**"Let's Play, "Name**__**Your Beta""**__ for those of you that want to publicly recognize and recommend your beta and __**"Chit Chat with the Authors"**__ for those that have questions related to writing and Criminal Minds fanfiction. Please drop by and check it out. _

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Six**

Opening her eyes a scant few hours later, Lizzie blinked rapidly, trying to gain her bearings. And then she felt her husband move behind her, tightening his arm around the small swell of her stomach, and everything came flooding back. He'd come for her...for them. And then he'd refused to leave. Because he loved them.

Slowly turning over, Lizzie stared at her husband's slack face in the semi-darkness. She didn't think it was a trick of the light that his face looked a little more lined...his thick hair was a little grayer. No, these weeks apart had affected him as badly as they had her. Trailing gentle fingers across his stubbled cheek, she heard his soft sigh. Jerking her hand back as his eyes flashed open, she whispered, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."

"I'm not," Dave replied hoarsely, shaking his head as he reached for her hand. "I was half afraid it was all a dream...that you wouldn't be here when I opened my eyes. Every time I've closed my eyes since you left, I prayed that you'd be there when I opened them. And when you weren't, it was that same pain all over again. So believe me, babe, you're allowed to wake me up at any time, in any way you want."

Smiling faintly, Lizzie snuggled against his warm body, finally feeling as though she'd arrived where she should have been all along. "Don't think I won't remember that when I'm as big as a beached whale and need a helpful shove just to get to the bathroom. Although, I'm not quite sure how exactly I'll get there when you're on the road."

Wrapping a strong hand around her hip, tucking her tighter into place, Dave rumbled, "You won't have to worry about that, seeing as how I'm never leaving you for any reason."

Jerking her head up at those quiet words, Lizzie met his dark eyes, the dim glow from the bathroom bulb throwing just enough light over his determined face. Shaking her head, Lizzie asked, confused, "But Dave, you have to leave to work on the cases and promote your books. You've been doing that for the entire time we've been married, and…"

"And now I won't be," he interrupted easily, sweeping soft fingers against her sleep-rumpled curls. "There's nothing out there that means as much to me as you do, Lizzie. And I'm not going to miss another day of this pregnancy." Grinning down at her still-surprised face, he wriggled his eyebrows. "Besides, don't you think that you and I have some lost time to make up for? I think we can find quite a few things to keep each other occupied."

"But Dave," Lizzie protested, shaking her head as she propped her chin on his shoulder, "I don't understand. You aren't going to leave the FBI completely, are you?"

"I don't know yet, babe," Dave admitted, his fingers sliding down the gentle slope of her back. "But no decisions have to be made immediately. Right now, I'm more concerned about making sure my wife stays relaxed and stress free. For now and for always."

"Your wife needs some answers before she can just close her eyes and forget this entire convoluted tale," Lizzie moaned, blinking. Her voice catching, she whispered, "Dave, I'd never ask you to leave the FBI. I know it's important to you and…"

"Babe, I don't know how to explain it any differently, but you and our daughter will always be more important to me than any job," Dave assured her, rolling her slightly as he pressed a soft kiss to those perfect pink lips. "I told you earlier that I've left the Bureau before, so leaving it again won't be any challenge."

"Are you sure?" Lizzie asked again, staring up into his dark eyes, her fingers tweaking his chest hairs. Whispering, she added, hesitantly, "Nobody's ever done something like this for me before. I don't know what to say."

Scooting up in the bed, Dave propped against the headboard, the sheet riding low on his hips as he looked at the woman he'd married. "I almost lost you, Elizabeth. Both of you," he said, nodding toward her belly. "Because I let somebody convince me that they knew the best way to catch an unsub. For a split second, I put the need to apprehend a killer above my family and it almost cost me everything. I'm not willing to allow that to happen again."

"But part of that was my fault," Lizzie muttered grudgingly, her frown deepening as she remembered her earlier reactions. "I should have stuck around and found out what happened from you. If I had..."

"Even if you had, it wouldn't have changed the actions I took that day. Destructive actions, Lizzie. Actions that I swore I'd never be foolish enough to take again when I married you."

"Hotch said that man had slaughtered eighteen couples," Lizzie murmured, dropping her eyes to the bed, her fingers slowly picking at the hemmed edge of the sheet. "You stopped him."

"And I very nearly lost my wife and kid because of it," Dave said heavily, his fingers tightening slightly against her thin shoulder. "That is not a trade off I'll ever consider making."

"But you got him, Dave. That man can't hurt anybody else," Lizzie insisted, swallowing hard as she stared at him again.

"Yeah, I did. And the most important woman in my life got caught in the crossfire. You got hurt," Dave said bitterly, sweeping gentle fingers against her pale cheek. "And I did that to you."

"So did Emily," Lizzie ground out through tight lips, unable to stop the sudden wave of bitterness that seemed to flood through her soul as she remembered that pertinent fact.

"Lizzie, honey," Dave said softly, touching her lips lightly, "you forgave me. Why can't you forgive her, too?"

"Because a woman expects a man to be a jackass; it's in his blood. A woman expects more from another woman," Lizzie declared flatly. "And, this much, I can promise you," Lizzie bit out, glaring at Dave, "I've got no intention of forgivin' Emily Prentiss for a blessed thing!"

"Sweetheart, she's innocent. It was my..."

"Defend her one more time and I'm going to rethink forgiving you, David," Lizzie said, an edge that he'd never heard before in her voice.

Shocked, Dave stared at the woman that up until now had never had a mean thing to say about anyone, even those that had hurt her most. "Honey, I'm sorry," Dave murmured, smoothing gentle fingers over her tense arm.

"I just can't listen to you talk about her. Innocent or not, she knew what she did was wrong. And if she's got somethin' she wants said, then she can be the body to say it. If you want things to work between us, you'll think real careful the next time you get the urge to defend that woman to me," Lizzie said in a voice filled with venom.

"I hear you, Elizabeth," Dave said quietly. "Loud and clear. I've just never heard you this way before."

"What did you expect, Dave?" Lizzie asked sharply, bunching her pillow tightly beneath her head. "For me to give that woman that spent time in my husband's arms a hug and a kiss?"

Rubbing a gentle hand over her stiff shoulders, Rossi murmured, "I don't expect you to do anything you don't want to do, Lizzie. I know this is all still new for both of us, and I'm not pushing you."

"You don't think that woman deserves me to just up and say all's peachy keen, do you?" Lizzie demanded, unable to let go of the topic now that he'd opened the door into the discussion. "I'm not that kind of woman, Dave. I'm not just gonna stand around and twiddle my thumbs while a woman that dared to call herself my friend puts her hands all over my man, no matter what the cause might or might not have been. And if you think.."

"I've got the message, Elizabeth," Dave interrupted, pressing a soft finger to her tense lips, rubbing across the full, soft skin. Remembering the warnings from the obstetrician the day before, Dave slid a finger against the bulging vein in her forehead, smoothing as he assured her, "I'm not going to bring the subject up again. I love you and our daughter. Everything and everyone else are far, far in the distance."

Frowning as she glared silently, gauging his words, Lizzie finally let out a loud sigh as she muttered, darkly, "Make sure you keep it that way, Dave."

"I plan on spending the rest of my life proving it to you, babe," Dave murmured, capturing her lips as he added, breathing against her skin, "Starting now."

And over the next few minutes, Lizzie suddenly found herself unable to even remember why she had even been angry as her husband once again took her on another trip to paradise.


	137. Chapter 137

**_Author's Note_**_: We're excited to announce our Round 3 of our Fanfic Challenge on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. The **Dealer's Choice August Challenge** is a great way to stretch your writing muscles! Please see the forum for further details. We'd love to have you! And please visit the forum to read our latest interviews with the simply amazing **SussiRay and cmfanbex**! And please join our newest discussion threads, **"What's on Your Bookshelf"** where readers tell us about the published books and authors that inspire them and **"The Art of the Well-Crafted** **Author's Note...To Write or Not To Write"**. Please drop by and check them out. And lastly, please keep our fellow authors, **Angel N Darkness** and **Darcie91 **within your prayers. Both ladies have been in serious accidents and have separate discussion threads where readers and authors alike may leave their best wishes! That's all for this time folks! Thanks to all who have read, reviewed, favorited or alerted our stories. We continue to appreciate each one of you!_

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Seven**

Her eyes drifting open slowly at the sound of a beeping alarm, Lizzie Rossi stretched slowly as she yawned, tucking her head into her husband's shoulder as the early morning sun seeped through the half-open shades.

"Turn it off, Dave," Lizzie moaned against his skin, tucking her body closer as she felt him stretch, the sound of something hitting the floor with a bang.

Pressing a kiss to her rumpled head as the beeping suddenly faded into nothingness, Dave rumbled, "Done, babe. But we're gonna have to move soon if we're going to be at the hospital before your father's surgery starts."

"I know," Lizzie murmured, too comfortable in his arms to even think about such a thing. The events of the night replayed in her mind, the endless moments she'd spent in his arms seeming like a dream. But now, in the bright light of day, she knew it wasn't a dream anymore. It was reality, and it was wonderful.

Well, she was certain it was wonderful until she started to sit up and suddenly felt that tell-tale rolling in her tummy. Swallowing tightly as she pressed a hand to the slight bulge, she whispered, almost begging, "No, no, no. Not this morning! Please not this morning!"

Hearing her moans, the worry in her voice, Dave sat up quickly, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as he said, sharply, "Elizabeth? What's wrong? Talk to me!"

But she had no time for words. Scrambling off the bed, she made a beeline for the bathroom, knowing from experience that she only had very few seconds before the dreaded morning sickness once again reared its ugly head.

Hitting the bathroom door just in time to watch his wife collapse to her knees, violently ill, Dave frowned. Hearing her choked moans as she retched, automatically he reached for a washcloth, wetting it with cool water. Turning, he gathered her cascading curls in one hand and pressed the cloth gently to her neck.

And ten minutes later, his curses rained down around them as her retching shifted into the worst dry heaves he'd ever watched. Smoothing her hand softly down her tense back, he fought to keep his thoughts sane. Was this what she'd been facing every morning? Alone? Calling himself every vile name he could think of, he watched as she finally weakly reached for the silver handle, flushing away the evidence of her sickness before leaning back against his hand.

"C-cold," she chattered, pressing a hand to her swollen belly.

Reaching blindly behind him for the fluffy hotel robe hanging on the back of the door, Dave wrapped her body quickly in the terrycloth fabric. "Baby," he murmured, sliding a supportive arm behind her, "we need to get you out of the floor."

Shaking her head quickly, she frantically stilled his movement as she held tightly to the edge of the porcelain. "No! I can't move yet. It comes back if I move too soon."

"So basically we wait it out on the floor?" Dave asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Unless you want it to find me again," Lizzie muttered, pushing her hair out of her eyes. Sighing, she moaned. "I can't believe you just saw that!"

"I can't believe you've been handling THAT all alone," Dave growled, shifting his fingers to wrap around the nape of her neck. "We're calling a doctor as soon as this passes. There's got to be some kind of wonder drug that's safe for you to take," he muttered darkly.

"Nope, the doctor said that it'll pass in time," Lizzie shrugged, tiredly turning her head toward him.

Seeing her pale face contorted in pain as she stretched her back, Dave shook his head. "Screw that," he hissed. "I'll find you a new doctor. One that didn't get his degree out of a cracker jack box. Nothing they can do, my ass! It's the damned twenty-first century," he raged, wincing as he watched her eyes fill with pain once again.

"Shhhh," Lizzie begged, pressing a finger to his lips. "My head always pounds after this for a few minutes, so, rage against the powers that be later, okay?"

"I'll be quiet as a church mouse," Rossi assured her softly, easing her limp body into his arms as he leaned back against the edge of the tub.

Dropping throbbing head against his shoulder, Lizzie swallowed hard as she felt her back clench again. "This is the part that I hate," she moaned, tugging the lapels of the fluffy robe tighter around her as another shiver rolled through her body.

The mere sight of her suffering tugged sharply at his soul, his urge to immediately solve the problem and see her well seeming to overtake all other coherent thought. He couldn't stand to see her upset, let alone as sick as she had just been. Pressing a gentle kiss against her clammy forehead, Dave drew up a knee as he cradled her closer, tucking her tighter as he muttered, tightly, "Has it been like this every morning?"

Barely moving her head, Lizzie winced as another wave of nausea hit, ebbing slightly as she let out a deep breath. "It gets better, Dave. I just have to wait it out."

A sudden memory floating to the surface, he whispered, "You want me to call for gingerale and crackers? That was what JJ always needed during her morning sickness. I could…"

Clenching at his chest, her fingers tugging sharply at his chest hairs, Lizzie groaned as she slammed her eyes shut again, "Don't mention food. If you love me any at all, you'll never mention food again."

Sighing deeply and feeling overwhelmingly powerless, Dave rested the back of his head against the fiberglass tub as he held her chilled body closer. Feeling the shivers slowly leaving the woman in his arms, he murmured, a few minutes later, "Feeling any better yet?"

"A little," Lizzie whispered, swallowing hard as she pressed her cheek against his warm chest. "But don't jinx me. It doesn't usually ease this fast."

"Maybe I'm your lucky charm," Dave said softly, cradling her body against him.

"I hope so," Lizzie sighed. "Anything I've got to use against this blessed morning sickness would be a plus," she muttered, slowly straightening in his arms.

Wrapping strong arms around her waist, Dave warned, "Slowly, Lizzie. No sudden moves."

"I just want to brush my teeth," Lizzie whispered, bracing her shaking hands against the vanity as she avoided looking in the mirror. "Do you think you could call down and see if they could deliver me some hot tea, Dave?"

"Anything you want, honey," Dave replied, relieved that she was talking again.

"Gertie got me hooked on the stuff. And it usually helps settle my stomach," she added, her voice beginning to fill with more strength.

"Remind me to thank her today," Dave grinned. "Preferably before she assaults me with her cane."

Wincing at that thought, Lizzie muttered, dropping her hand against his arm, "About that. Gertie's not exactly gonna be your biggest fan, Dave."

"Yeah, I kinda got that picture earlier when she threatened to personally make arrangements for me to meet my maker if I so much as even thought about making you cry again," Dave answered calmly, reluctantly pulling away from his wife, knowing he needed to order the tea. "And I'm sure I deserve every coal that little old woman's gonna continue to heap on my head."

"Just remember that a later date when she corners you again at some point," Lizzie replied, drawing in a deep breath as she reached for her travel bag, digging for her toothbrush, wanting nothing more than to wipe all traces of the last horrible few minutes away and start the day new.

With any luck, her life might be back on track…if only her body and baby would cooperate.


	138. Chapter 138

**_Author's Note__: We're excited to announce our Round 3 of our Fanfic Challenge on "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum is up to 66 participants. And you still have three more days to sign up if interested. We'd love to have everyone, whether you've authored hundreds of stories or never written a thing! This is for everyone! The Dealer's Choice August Challenge is a great way to stretch your writing muscles! Please see the forum for further details. And if you've never visited the forum, drop by for a visit. Everyone interested in Criminal Minds fanfiction and/or writing is welcome. We'd love to have you! As always, we want to take a moment and say thanks to all who have read, reviewed, favorited or alerted our stories. We continue to appreciate each one of you!_**

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Eight**

Stepping into the large hotel bedroom, Dave quickly called room service for Lizzie's tea and a pot of coffee, judiciously offering an extra large tip if the kitchen staff delivered within the next five minutes. And exactly three and a half minutes later, a sharp tap sounded in the room, a very grateful busboy collecting what was certain to be his largest gratuity of the day.

Watching as his wife slowly eased out of the bath, her curly hair loosely brushed around her shoulders, Dave smiled gently as he asked, "Bed or chair, babe? Which is better for you right now?"

"Chair," Lizzie sighed, pressing a hand to her side as she tried to mentally still her bouncing organs. "I'm not sure I'll be able to get back up for a while if I lie down. And we need to get to the hospital."

"Surgery isn't until seven and it's only a little after five now. If you want a few minutes to..."

"Dave, I'll be fine," Lizzie sighed, gratefully reaching for the steaming cup of tea and taking a gingerly sip. "I'm pretty used to this."

"Well, I'm not," Dave grumbled, stuffing his shirt tails into his jeans as he kept his eyes glued to the woman that had stolen his heart. While he understand that she might have a grasp on her current reality, he didn't. And he'd be damned if he allowed her to suffer without at least attempting to stop it immediately. "Seeing you sick like that...Are you absolutely sure that there's nothing they can do?"

Smiling gently, Lizzie shook her head as she leaned back into the surprisingly comfortable chair. "Not until I give birth to your child," she grinned. "Then she can give YOU heartburn for the rest of your natural life."

"And I'll enjoy every minute of it," Dave replied solemnly, returning her smile as he dropped into the chair across from her. Reaching for the coffee pot in the middle of the table, he poured a full cup as he sipped quickly, allowing the caffeine to hit his system with a jolt.

Wrinkling her nose as the pungent brew wafted in her direction, Lizzie closed her eyes as she pulled the teacup closer, taking another sip. Please, oh please, she begged silently as she tried to keep herself from grimacing, don't let it happen again.

Seeing his wife's obvious discomfort, Dave narrowed his eyes as he asked, quickly, "Lizzie, honey, what's wrong? Is the morning sickness coming back?"

Shaking her head carefully, trying not to aggravate her body anymore than it already had been, Lizzie smiled weakly as she murmured, "Not morning sickness this time, Dave. It's the coffee."

"Honey, would you rather have the coffee instead of the tea?" Dave asked solicitously, confused as he gestured toward the tea in her hand. Pushing his mug toward her, he said, "Here, drink mine and I'll get…"

"Oh, sweet Jesus, no!" Pulling back quickly, keeping her distance from that vile cup, Lizzie explained quickly as she felt the bile rising in her throat, "I don't want the coffee. As a matter of fact, I can't stand to be anywhere near coffee or the smell of coffee." Shrugging as she met his startled face, she added, "It's one of those pregnancy things. Your daughter hates it."

"Then I guess I'll be figuring out how to get my daily java fix in a completely new way," Dave answered easily, scooping up the coffee pot and cup and moving them to the far side of the room, opening the door to the hallway and quickly depositing the items on the floor outside.

"I'm sorry, Dave," Lizzie apologized, pressing a hand to her blooming stomach as she watched him willingly discard what was one of his few pleasures in life. "I know how much you enjoy coffee. Maybe we can…"

Shaking his head as he closed and locked the hotel door, he moved to stand next to his wife, cupping her cheek as he said, firmly, "Elizabeth, you have nothing to be sorry for. If this is what we need to do, this is what we'll do. I think me having to give up coffee is a small sacrifice compared to what you're doing, carrying our daughter." Pausing, he asked, almost afraid of the answer, "Any other little tidbits like this I need to know?

Shaking her head mutely, Lizzie whispered, staring into his honest, concerned eyes, "I'm still figurin' it out. One day, something won't sit right with me and the next day it doesn't bother me at all."

"Honey, that sounds like just an average day with you," Dave teased, stroking a gentle finger down her still too-pale cheek.

Smacking his hand away from her, Lizzie glared at him as she narrowed her eyes. "Keep talkin', Yankee. Don't you think you're already in a heap enough trouble?"

"Ah, but you're calling me Yankee again," Dave grinned, noting the sudden burst of color that shimmered on her skin. "I know we're on the road to recovery now."

"We may be, but you're gonna have your work cut out for you with Ray. He always favored you, you know. And he's right peeved now," Lizzie warned, remembering her older brother's thunderous face. Lord have mercy, she thought, if her brother and her husband ever went to battle, she'd be hard pressed to determine a winner.

"I made my peace with Tommy. I can do it with Ray, too," Dave shrugged, pulling his chair closer to hers and settling easily.

"You gave Tommy a black eye and sent him sailin' into mama's rosebush," Lizzie retorted, letting him pull her feet into his lap. "That ain't what I call keepin' the peace, Dave."

"It was effective, wasn't it?" Dave asked innocently, rubbing her ankles with gentle fingers as he smiled.

"Oh, Lands," Lizzie groaned, wrapping her hands tightly around her teacup as she shook her head, her curls bouncing in every direction. "This is gonna be a long day!"


	139. Chapter 139

_**Author's Note: We have a couple of announcements for you all today. We're proud to announce that signups are open for the Fanfic Challenge - Round 4 on our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" or, as we like to call it, the "PYOP Challenge" (pick your own pairing challenge) through September 1st. For those interested, simply go to the forum to the PWOP Challenge thread and sign up with your favorite pairing. On September 2nd, we'll assign you a scenario to write provided by some of our lovely fellow authors. This will give everybody an opportunity to write what they love and provide readers with some awesome stories. Please sign up at the forum or shoot us a PM signifying your willingness to participate. So, please come join the fun and let's make this the most successful challenge yet!**_

_**Also, we've opened a new thread called, "Find a Fic...with the help of all your friends". Ever had a story for which you simply couldn't recall the title. This thread is the place to begin searching. Details can be found on the thread. I hope you all find it a helpful addition to the forum. As always, any ideas for new threads are welcome!**_

_**We also have wonderful new interviews with two equally amazing authors posted. Please check out the-vampire-act and emzypemzy interviews and let them know your thoughts!**_

_**And, as always, thanks to everybody still reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting our stories. We couldn't do this without your support!**_

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Nine**

And seven hours later, leaning her head against her husband's shoulder, Elizabeth Rossi realized just how intuitive those earlier words had been. The stressful day had seemed to stretch into infinity, and she had a feeling it was far from over yet. Yawning as she pulled her legs up a big higher on the very uncomfortable waiting room chair, she murmured, "What time is it now?"

Dropping a kiss to her bountiful curls, Dave glanced at his watch as he answered, softly, "Fifteen past noon. Don't you think it's time we got some food in you, honey?"

Grimacing at the mere thought, Lizzie shook her head, glancing over at the closed doors to the surgical suite. "Not until they come out and tell us something, Dave. I'm not leavin' not knowin' what's goin' on with Daddy."

"Elizabeth, you've not eaten this morning. You have to put something in your stomach," Dave maintained, wrapping his fingers around her hand, noticing once again how thin her wrist and fingers seemed to be now. His mission, to his mind, was completely clear. Whatever methods he had employee, he fully intended in ensuring that his wife and daughter were in prime health, which might very well require him to force feed Lizzie on a regular basis.

Reaching over to pat her daughter's knee, Anne Winstead echoed her son-in-law. "Honey, it's going to be another hour or two before we get any news on your daddy. Let your husband take you on down to the cafeteria while the goin's good. There'll be plenty of time for sittin' and waitin' later on, I guarantee it."

"But Mama," Lizzie objected, lifting her head off Dave's shoulder as she met her mother's green eyes, "I wanna be here when…"

"I know, baby girl. And you will be, honey," Anne assured her, moving a hand to gently pat Lizzie's swollen stomach. "But right now, I'm sure my first grandbaby needs to eat."

"Come on, LizzieBear," Ray urged, his deep voice rumbling from his seat in the corner of the small waiting room, "you can grab me a cup of coffee while your down there."

"And one of the bear claws, Sissy," Tommy added hopefully, standing up slowly beside his brother. "Miss Marylynne's workin' in the cafeteria today. You know she makes the best ones in three counties. And I'm sure as I am of my name that she'd slip you a few of the special ones she always keeps put back for her favorites."

"Since when did I hang a sign on my back that says I'm ya'lls personal fetch girl?" Lizzie grumbled, sliding her feet back to the tiled floor.

"Since we let you tagalong after us since you was knee high to a grasshopper," Ray snorted. "Now get busy feedin' my niece," he demanded, ignoring Dave completely, his dark eyes trained on his sister.

"Well, come on," Lizzie muttered, slapping Dave's thigh as she stood slowly, adjusting her weight as she reached for her husband's hand. "They ain't gonna hush until I do as they ask."

Placing a gentle hand against his wife's back, Dave guided her toward the bank of elevators, satisfied that even if he couldn't make his young bride see reason, someone could. Listening as the small ding signified the car's arrival, Dave could only gape as the doors slid open revealing the one person guaranteed to ruin Lizzie's appetite.

Emily Prentiss. And it appeared that she had brought company.

Lizzie's lips tightened into a thin line as she stared at the dark-haired woman that she had once called friend. Taking a step backwards against Dave's solid chest, she hissed as her small fist clenched at her side, "What are YOU doing here? Haven't you done enough damage, you marriage-wrecking Jezebel?"

Jerking startled eyes from Lizzie's to Dave's then back, Emily Prentiss cleared her throat as she stepped out into the hospital hallway. Smiling weakly, she took a step toward Lizzie as she said, "I was concerned for you, Lizzie. I was sorry to hear about your father, and I wanted you to know that…"

"You can stop right there," Lizzie interrupted, her tone dripping icicles as she stared at the woman that had kissed her husband, preserved for all eternity in living techni-color. "Your so-called concern's not exactly all that touchin' considerin' the circumstances. You can just take yourself right on back up to DC." She turned then, jerking her eyes toward her husband as she demanded, sharply, "Unless you two have cooked something up that I don't know about? I swear to God and Jesus, Dave, I'll not have…"

"I didn't know she was coming, Elizabeth," Dave assured her quickly, wrapping his arm tighter around her stiffened shoulders as he threw a dark look toward the tall man behind Emily. "For God's sake, Hotch, what in the hell were you thinking? You knew the situation. Why did you let her come?"

"Prentiss just called me from the airport to let me know she was here," Hotch admitted, casting his eyes over at his young cousin, her green eyes filled with fire. Ignoring the looks of a passing nurse, Hotch stepped closer to the tiny redhead as he said, convincingly, "Look, Lizzie, it's not what you think. Emily's…"

"Not welcome here. Don't make me repeat myself, Aaron. You won't like the second answer any better," Lizzie snapped, her words harder than Aaron had ever heard from her before. Clenching her fist tightly by her side, she muttered heavily to her husband, "Get her out of my sight, Dave, or I'll claw her eyes out right here in front of God and everybody."

Gasping as she heard the vicious edge in the previously docile secretary's voice, Emily faltered, only to be shoved aside quickly.

"Now I know why JJ insisted that I ride shotgun on this little mission," Penelope Garcia chirped, adeptly moving between her Unit Chief and Emily Prentiss. Holding her arms out, she grinned, "Give me a hug, my erstwhile Georgia Peach!"


	140. Chapter 140

_**Author's Note: We have a couple of announcements for you all today. We're proud to announce that signups are open for the Fanfic Challenge - Round 4 on our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" or, as we like to call it, the "PYOP Challenge" (pick your own pairing challenge) through September 1st. For those interested, simply go to the forum to the PYOP Challenge thread and sign up with your favorite pairing. On September 2nd, we'll assign you a scenario to write provided by some of our lovely fellow authors. This will give everybody an opportunity to write what they love and provide readers with some awesome stories. Please sign up at the forum or shoot us a PM signifying your willingness to participate. So, please come join the fun and let's make this the most successful challenge yet!**_

_**We also have wonderful new interviews with the lovely Sarramaks and hot4cullenmen! Please check it out and let them know your thoughts!**_

_**We've also added two fun new prompt threads. One is called, "Fortune Cookie Fridays" based on an idea submitted by LoveforPenandDerek. Come by and check it out...perhaps, it will feed the muse. And the other is called, "Getting to Know...YOU! Tell us about yourself" It asks five simple questions that allow readers and authors alike to briefly tell us about who they are.**_

_**And, as always, thanks to everybody still reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting our stories. We couldn't do this without your support!**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Forty**

"Penny?" Lizzie gasped, her eyes rounding with surprise, a smile actually starting to appear on her wan face. "What're you doin' here?"

"I come to mediate a peace treaty before my happy little family disintegrates completely around my very pretty ears!" Grabbing Lizzie's chilled hand, Garcia asked, eyes glancing determinedly up and down the hallway, "Where's the ladies room in this joint?"

"D-down the hall," Lizzie murmured, reluctantly being dragged in Penelope Garcia's determined wake.

"Good, good!" Penelope smiled calmly, calling over her shoulder, "Prentiss, move your ass! Now!"

Harried seconds later, Lizzie met the brightly bespeckled eyes of her best friend, waving her hand around the small restroom as she said, tightly, "Okay, Penny, we're here. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't march myself right on out of here. Cause what I'm seein' so far," Lizzie narrowed her eyes as she glanced coldly toward the still-quiet Emily, "ain't impressin' me much."

Crossing her arms over her ample bosom, Garcia glanced from the feisty redhead to the unnaturally quiet brunette as she said, eyes wide, "First of all, friends don't walk out on friends. Second, I'm slightly bigger than you are, little mama, so I think I can take you if you decide to make a break for it. And third, I have it on good authority that stress is not good for mamas or their babies. I'm here to de-stress your life."

"You've got a strange way of showin' it,' Lizzie snorted, leaning back against the counter as she pressed her lips tightly.

"I think we need to start with a bit of air clearing," Garcia declared, ignoring the dark looks she was receiving from both women. "And that means that we start back at the beginning of this little morality play." Turning toward Prentiss, she asked, bluntly, "Emily, did you or did you not kiss David Rossi after he married Lizzie?"

Sighing heavily, Emily closed her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. "You know I did, Garcia. And you've given me hell over it every day since you found out a month and a half ago. And believe me," she said, opening her eyes to stare across the room into Lizzie's glittering eyes, "I've never regretted a decision more."

"Really?" Lizzie snapped, her shoulders stiffening, "Because based on the evidence I saw, you sorta seemed to be enjoyin' the whole David Rossi experience!"

"That is NOT true," Emily bit out. "Lizzie, I respect and admire your husband, but believe me, that is not an experience I ever want to repeat!"

"You try repeatin' it with my husband and it won't matter! You won't be able to voice your lies anymore. You won't have any teeth left!" Lizzie snapped, her hands pressing tightly to her widened hips.

Stepping between the two women, Pen held up her hands. "Okay, ladies, let's keep the threats of violence to a minimum."

Breathing deeply, Lizzie glared at Emily. "You were my friend! Or at least I thought you were!"

"I AM your friend, Lizzie. We were doing a job...like actors," Emily insisted, taking a step forward.

"Actors in a porno, maybe!" Lizzie shouted, her agitated voice echoing around the tiled bathroom. "Because you were definitely givin' an impressive performance as a faithless whore! You deserve an award!" Shaking her head in disgust, she stomped toward the door, muttering, "I'm out of here. I don't cotton to someone peein' on my foot and tellin' me it's rain."

Throwing herself in front of the only exit, Penelope Garcia spread her arms wide as she shook her head rapidly. "Oh, no, my little preggers gumdrop. I did NOT live through the horror that is your husband for the past six weeks to now have to suffer through another saga in this soap opera that has become our lives. I did a happy dance when we found out you were alive and well, little mama, so you can imagine my displeasure when this little dragon reared its ugly head. And none of us are leaving this room until I have my happy family back again. Capisce?"

Cocking her curly head as she stared in confusion at her friend, Lizzie asked slowly, her voice filled with doubt, "You mean to tell me that you didn't know anything about this, Penny?"

Waving her hands in the air as she bounced on her heels, Garcia snorted, "You think if I had know about this that I could have kept it quiet? Sweetie pie, ever since I got wind of this horrible turn of events, no troll doll has been safe in my presence. Even Mimsy, my favorite of all time, met with an unfortunate decapitation accident when I couldn't get my hands on the people responsible for this. If I had known, YOU would have been my first visit."

"Unlike SOMEONE else, you are a good friend, Penny," Lizzie said, casting an acid gaze toward the other woman still waiting in the corner.

"Lizzie, I don't know what else to say but that I'm sorry!" Emily declared, her eyes widening earnestly as she leaned forward. "If I had it to do all over again, I swear to God I'd never have walked into that hotel room. And I'd definitely have ignored every threat your husband made and marched right off the plane to tell you exactly what happened."

"Why didn't you, Emily?" Lizzie demanded as she turned, hands on her growing hips, her jaw clenched. "If you were my friend like you said you were, then that's exactly what you should have done. I had a right to know!"

"Honestly, Lizzie? Nobody crosses your husband and lives to tell the tale," Emily admitted softly, shaking her head as she leaned back against the metal stall.

"Well, now you're just spoutin' nonsense," Lizzie snorted derisively.

"No, Mama Bear," Pen drawled, shaking her head slowly, "that part of what she said is gospel."

"You agree with her?" Lizzie's shocked voice breathed.

"Lizzie, sweetie," Penelope said, carefully stepping toward her friend. "Your husband can be quite the scary guy when he puts his mind to it. Few cross him. Primarily because word has gotten around that you don't last very long when you do make that mistake."

"Now, ya'll are just bein' silly," Lizzie huffed, propping one hand on her hip as she looked between the two serious looking women. "He's nothin' put a big ole teddy bear."

"To you," Emily said, enunciating carefully as she met Lizzie's eyes steadily. "To the rest of us, he's a force of nature. And when he tells you to remain silent...You. Do. It."


	141. Chapter 141

_**Author's Note: Hello, readers! Again, several announcements to make...please visit our discussion forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". We have introduced a new discussion thread called, "Announcing the Profiler's Choice Criminal Minds Awards on fanfiction. net 2010". Please see this thread for tentative guidelines and know that more details are coming soon. With all of the readers and authors support, I believe we can make this venture an incredibly fun experience! So, please everyone, come on over and take a look. **_

_**Thanks to everyone taking the time to continue reading our work. As always, we couldn't ask for better readers than those in the CM fandom and we appreciate everyone taking time to let us know what you think!**_

_**We have a couple more announcements for you all today. We're proud to announce that signups are open for the Fanfic Challenge - Round 4 on our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" or, as we like to call it, the "PYOP Challenge" (pick your own pairing challenge) through September 1st. For those interested, simply go to the forum to the PYOP Challenge thread and sign up with your favorite pairing. On September 2nd, we'll assign you a scenario to write provided by some of our lovely fellow authors. This will give everybody an opportunity to write what they love and provide readers with some awesome stories. Please sign up at the forum or shoot us a PM signifying your willingness to participate. So, please come join the fun and let's make this the most successful challenge yet!**_

_**We've also added a new 'Getting to Know" interview with our fellow author, canny-bairn. Please check it out!**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Forty-One**

"She's right," Penelope agreed, nodding vigorously as she took a step closer to her pregnant friend. "And if I didn't believe it before, the last six weeks without you have reinforced my belief. Your husband is one terrifying guy when he's pissed or frightened. And, Peaches, he's been both. He's BEEN both since you lost the first baby, Lizzie."

"He didn't want to be on that case, Lizzie," Emily said softly, pressing her case forward. "God, he was furious when Hotch set up the takedown. We BOTH were. But this was a really bad guy. Eighteen couples, Lizzie. And Hotch insisted that it would only be a five minute production...tops. And, not to disrespect your husband, but it was the LONGEST five minutes of my life and not in a good way. And I honestly thought when we agreed to it that he was going to explain it to you. He never indicated that it wasn't the plan. It was only after the takedown...after we'd both been sick...that he put out the word...NO ONE was to say a word about what had led to that apprehension. And the look in his eyes..."

"Emily," Lizzie sighed tiredly, interrupting the woman, no longer able to handle the details of what had happened all those months ago.

"No, please, let me finish. You'd just lost the baby, Lizzie. We all knew you were grieving and none of us, MOST of all your husband, wanted you to suffer anymore. I knew it was a dumb move. And I regret my part in it from start to finish. But I NEVER set out to deceive you. I trusted your husband to know what was best for you and I should have known better. And THAT will NEVER happen again. I promise," Emily swore, pressing a hand over her heart as her earnest eyes searched her friend's face for any sign of forgiveness.

"Which part won't happen again?" Lizzie asked wryly, arching an eyebrow as she leaned her heavy body back against the restroom counter. "The kissin' my husband or the trustin' him to know what's best?"

"Both! But especially, the kissing thing," Emily said with a grimace and distasteful shudder. "That was just nauseating!"

"Hey!" Lizzie yelped in indignation, her eyes narrowing as she glared at the other woman. "My husband is quite good with his lips, thank you very much!"

"For you, Lizzie," Emily retorted. "For me, it was like kissing my brother," she added, her shoulder quivering at the thought.

"Well...I reckon it's my Christian duty to forgive you." Raising her eyes to stare at Emily levelly, she added, meaningfully, "Once. One time."

"So you'll come back and straighten out that mess that temp has made of everything?" Penelope asked hopefully, her eyes brightening in hope. "Cause I gotta tell you, JJ's pregnancy hormones are sort of all over the place. She almost stabbed that woman with a letter opener day before yesterday for putting through a reporter from the Times," Garcia said with a wince, the almost-deadly scene still fresh in her overworked mind.

"I 'spose I could come back. I have missed ya'll," Lizzie admitted, her lips twitching from side to side as she glanced at both women. "But no more funny business. I mean it!"

"Never, ever again," Emily agreed quickly, relieved as she watched Lizzie's tense face start to soften.

"All right then," Lizzie nodded, reaching for the knob of the restroom door, "we best get back out there before Dave goes a'lookin' for a way to take the bathroom door off. He does that when he gets puckish."

Glaring at Hotch as the bathroom door slid shut and his wife disappeared from view, Dave hissed, "What the hell were you thinking, Aaron? Do you know how long it took to convince Lizzie that there was nothing between Prentiss and me? How long it took my pregnant wife to stop crying last night?"

"Dave, I didn't know this trip was even happening until they were already here and demanding to see Lizzie," Hotch growled, taking a step closer to his angry colleague. "But honestly, I think..."

"For the love of Christ, stop thinking!" Dave demanded harshly, crossing his arms over his chest. "You thinking is what got me into this fucking mess months ago! Remember that, asshole? It was your fucking brilliant trap that nearly cost me my wife and child," Dave railed, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he glanced worriedly back at the wooden door.

"It was a JOB, Dave. We've all been there. Lizzie is going to have to understand that-"

Holding up a hand violently, Dave turned slowly toward the younger man and ordered in a voice that defied description, "Stop. My wife doesn't need to do a damn thing! I...no…WE are the assholes that put her in this position, Aaron. WE caused her pain and I'll be GODDAMNED if I allow ANY of us to do any more damage. Understand this, Aaron. I'll leave the Bureau in a fucking New York minute if it makes the difference between saving my marriage or watching it crumble around me. Nothing is more important that Elizabeth's faith in me. I cost myself that unwavering belief. By my own hand, I wrecked what we'd built between us."

"Dave," Hotch said quietly, letting out a deep sigh as he attempted to move the conversation back into the land of reason, "you put a vicious animal behind bars by exchanging a few kisses with Prentiss. I'd say it was worth it."

"And you'd be wrong, Aaron. Very, very wrong. Obviously you've forgotten where the priority lies when you're married," Dave said dangerously, lowering his voice as a group of teens passed them. "And I'm warning you to keep your opinions to yourself where Elizabeth is concerned. Especially if that's the kind of bullshit you spout."

About to respond, Hotch closed his mouth tightly as he heard the sound of a squeaking hinge, the heavy wooden door swinging wide.

Jerking his eyes from his idiotic Unit Chief to the bright green eyes of his suddenly reappearing wife, Rossi asked carefully, scanning her face for a signal of any sort, "Everything okay, Elizabeth?"


	142. Chapter 142

_**Author's Note: Hello, readers! Again, several announcements to make...please visit our discussion forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". We have introduced a new discussion thread called, "Announcing the Profiler's Choice Criminal Minds Awards on fanfiction. net 2010". Please see this thread for tentative guidelines and know that more details are coming soon. With all of the readers and authors support, I believe we can make this venture an incredibly fun experience! So, please everyone, come on over and take a look. **_

_**Thanks to everyone taking the time to continue reading our work. As always, we couldn't ask for better readers than those in the CM fandom and we appreciate everyone taking time to let us know what you think!**_

_**We have a couple more announcements for you all today. We're proud to announce that signups are open for the Fanfic Challenge - Round 4 on our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" or, as we like to call it, the "PYOP Challenge" (pick your own pairing challenge) through September 1st. For those interested, simply go to the forum to the PYOP Challenge thread and sign up with your favorite pairing. On September 2nd, we'll assign you a scenario to write provided by some of our lovely fellow authors. This will give everybody an opportunity to write what they love and provide readers with some awesome stories. Please sign up at the forum or shoot us a PM signifying your willingness to participate. So, please come join the fun and let's make this the most successful challenge yet!**_

_**We've also added a new 'Getting to Know" interview with our fellow author, canny-bairn. Please check it out!**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Two**

Smiling widely at her husband's obviously worried face, Lizzie stepped fully into the bustling hallway of the local hospital, trailed by her two friends. "Right as rain on an April day," she replied breezily, propping her hands on her round belly. Glancing back at the two women behind her, she added, her voice defying them to disagree, "Ain't that right, girls?"

"Told you we just needed a chance to have some girl talk," Penelope replied brightly, patting Dave's stiff shoulder as she slid by him, pinching his arm for good measure. "Loosen up, Super Agent. You can come off DefCon Four now. Crisis has been averted, Houston no longer has a problem, and all the natives are no longer restless."

"Do I want to know what just happened?" Dave groaned, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he kept a watchful eye glued to his petite wife. "Or is this one of those things that I'm going to handle much better if I don't know the details?"

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Dave," Lizzie warned lightly, nodding toward Emily as she continued, "And Emmy and I have reached an understanding. Apparently all of you men are absolute idiots and should never be allowed to make decisions ever again in the future. Make a note of that, please, before I have to have it tattooed on your foreheads."

"I've been telling these guys for years that they shouldn't try to have an impulsive thought without consulting with me first," Penelope groaned with a roll of her bright eyes as she tapped her stiletto-shod toes against the linoleum. "But do they listen? No. They just go off all willy-nilly and then we have to come along behind them and clean up their messes!"

"Well," Lizzie drawled, slipping her arm through Emily's as they headed slowly toward the elevators, "when I left, you were making progress with Derek. You almost had that boy trained to know which side his bread was buttered on."

"Years of work, my little Peach. Years and years of painstaking work," Garcia sighed, falling into to place on the other side of Lizzie.

"Tell me this place has a Diet Coke," Emily said plaintively, looking around desperately for the familiar red and white drink machine.

"Honey, you're in Georgia. Coke capital of the world, remember?" Lizzie laughed. "We'll find you somethin' to parch the thirst, lickety split."

Following at a safe distance behind, Dave eyed the line of women in front of them warily. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" he whispered to Hotch, his wife's trilling laugh still music to his ears.

Staring in awe at the backs of the three collective women, Hotch whispered back, awestruck, "Maybe it really is true."

"What?" Dave asked in a hushed voice, his eyes never leaving his wife's swaying hips as they made their way down the corridor.

"Garcia really is a miracle worker," Hotch replied with a shake of his dark head, making a mental note to give the woman a glowing performance review at his first available opportunity.

"You need to put that woman in for a raise, immediately," Dave muttered in a low growl as they watched the women reach the elevator. "And if Strauss gives you any grief, I'll fund it myself. For as long as that woman wants to remain in the Bureau."

"Don't let her hear you say that," Hotch answered, moving with Dave toward the departing women. "She'll make a lifelong commitment to the FBI and expect cost of living adjustments every two weeks. For her and every one of her troll dolls."

"Whatever she wants," Dave shook his head, again, his mind still attempting to understand the quick change in circumstances. "She's earned it. Hell, I'll even give that Mimsy doll of hers its own trollcondo if that keeps her happy and on my side."

Sticking her bright strawberry curls out of the elevator door as Penelope held the metal sides open, Lizzie whistled through her fingers as she grinned at her husband, "Hey slowpoke! You comin' or what? Your daughter's demandin' a donut and I ain't plannin' on keepin' her waitin' much longer! And you're payin', by the way!"

"We're coming, Lizzie," Dave called, hurrying his steps, easing into the elevator as he grinned at his obviously calmer wife. Pulling her body to him as the elevator started its descent toward the ground floor, he murmured in her ear, "I guess this means that you and Emily have buried the hatchet?"

"Of course," Lizzie said, smiling as she leaned against Dave, her body far more relaxed that she had been in months.

"Points for you," Hotch said, whispering in Emily's ear as he sidled closer to the raven-haired beauty, "She didn't bury it in your back."

Elbowing her Unit Chief sharply in his stomach, Emily smiled as she heard Hotch's quickly indrawn breath. "Now ask me about the hatchet I'd like to bury in your head," Emily ordered sweetly, her flashing eyes belying her tone.

"Yes," Lizzie added, eyes narrowing on her cousin, "the only person I'm not real sure about forgivin' is you, Aaron Hotchner. Of all the idiotic notions in the world, this one took the cake. You musta learned that foolish move from the Yankee side of your durn family. As sure as God made little green apples, you didn't get any of that from my side!"

"Real sharp , Boss Man," Penelope snickered, rolling her eyes at the deer in the headlights look that suddenly crossed her boss's face.

Looking around at the three women, Hotch shook his head. "Why the hell am I in trouble?"

"The way I hear tell, you were the mastermind of this little plot," Lizzie huffed. Seeing Aaron open his mouth, she shook her head quickly. "Trust me, cousin, if I were you, I'd leave this sleepin' dog lyin' on the porch."

Closing his eyes, Hotch sighed, reminding himself over and over that he loved his family. "Yes, Lizzie."

"Good answer, Chief," Garcia giggled in the background, merely raising her eyebrow when Hotch threw a dark gaze in her direction.


	143. Chapter 143

**Author's Note: There are still two days remaining if you'd like to sign up for the "PYOP" (Pick Your Own Pairing) challenge at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. Please join us in making this our most exciting challenge yet. Details and sign-ups are waiting for you.**

**And, exciting news, my friends, nominating ballots for "The Profiler's Choice Awards" are ready and waiting for you at the "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. So please, everyone, come on over and name some of your favorite fics and authors. Lets honor our favorite stories and authors on the site! We want to hear from you. Rules and guidelines are also available at the forum. **

**For anyone willing to help us advertise the awards, we've created a short author's note template available on both my profile page (ilovetvalot) and my co-author's (tonnie2001969). We'd love to have everybody's help making this venture a huge and fun success. Please feel free to copy and paste it into your own author's notes and/or profiles! With your help, I believe this can become an annual event that we ALL look forward to seeing. I hope that you're all as eager as I am to see this incredible project lift off.**

**Also, we've got a couple of new interviews with two very talented authors available for your viewing pleasure. Please join us as we get to know criminalxxxmindsxxxfreak and Katie N Cassie's Slave 4 Life.**

**The "Fortune Cookie Prompt" thread has been updated for the week of 8/27/2010 on the forum. Please check it out!**

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Three**

Three days later, nerves were finally beginning to settle in the Winstead family in Piermont, Georgia. James Winstead had successfully received his bypass and appeared to be well on the road to recovery, bless his heart.

Of course, he was determined to join everyone on the bandwagon for his new lease on life, whether they were willing participants or not. The boys had been charged with keeping his farm running whilst he convalesced. And since his wife of over forty years refused to leave his side, custody of Gertrude, Aunt Myrtle and Grandpa fell to Dave and Lizzie.

Knowing those elderly relatives were handfuls on even the best of days, the married couple had risen to the challenge. Especially Dave.

In the past few days, there hadn't been much, if anything at all, Dave decided he wouldn't do for his wife. Hell, for the entire Winstead clan. It was a sad, although all too-true, fact that he hadn't been a member of a family this close since his own relatives had passed. None of his previous wives had ever sought to include him in the inner workings of their families, choosing instead to simply employ his money and name when and if they saw fit.

Not so with the Winsteads. He was included in everything. And, more often than not, left to make decisions regarding not only James' care, but the familial farm and business as well, in the ailing patriarch's stead. Lizzie, her mother and her brothers had placed their implicit trust in him, and he was determined not to fail. He owed Lizzie and her family this.

This mattered. And it had been a hell of a long time since that had happened.

Pushing out of the waiting room chair, Dave crossed the room to where Lizzie dozed on the small office-quality sofa, her chin against her chest. Kneeling in front of her, he carefully took one of her hands in his, softly rubbing her leg with the other. "Lizzie, honey?" Dave whispered, watching as her green eyes slowly opened, blinking rapidly.

"D-Dave?" she asked huskily, her throat dry from sleep. "Is it Daddy? Somethin' wrong?"

"No, sweetheart, everything's fine. Your mama is in with him now. Hotch is sitting with them. Ray and Tommy left about an hour ago to start the chores around the farm." Running a gentle finger down her sleep flushed cheek, he smiled. "Penelope and Emily are downstairs waiting for us. They need to go back to the farm and get packed for their flight back this evening. And you," he murmured, squeezing her fingers gently, "need to get a couple of hours sleep in a real bed for me."

Shaking her head, Lizzie dropped her feet to the floor as she narrowed her eyes at him. "You just go on ahead of me, Dave. I'm fine as frog hair right here in this waitin' room."

"Not happening, Babe," Dave said firmly, shaking his head. "Where you are, I am...and I need to go on back and make sure Gertie, your aunt and your grandfather haven't burned the family home to the ground. I have a feeling they may be planning a small coup soon, and I'd like to keep one step ahead of them."

"Well, you don't need me to ride shotgun for that," Lizzie replied, straightening her wrinkled skirt as best she could. Lord, her clothes were gettin' tighter every single day. Wriggling in her seat, she fought to adjust the seam of her shirt, stretched tightly across her growing abdomen.

"I beg to differ. You're coming home with me." Dave grinned as he watched her rub her tummy, reaching out to cover her small hand with his. "Baby giving you trouble this afternoon, honey?"

"No," Lizzie snorted as she glared down at the uncooperative clothing. "My clothes are. I'm gettin' big as a house," she frowned, her nose wrinkling. "Nothin' fits right anymore."

Leaning forward to claim her lips in a slow kiss, he smiled against her lips. "That's because you're dressing for two now, babe. We need to get you some maternity clothes. And for the record, you are NOT big as a house. You look gorgeous."

"Well, I don't exactly see time for a shoppin' spree anytime in the future," Lizzie sighed, struggling to stand, counterbalancing her weight as she found her bearings. "And you can quit your flatterin'. You're gettin' your way."

Rising to stand beside her, Dave wrapped a warm arm around her waist. "I'm not saying anything that isn't true. And I'll have some clothes delivered out to the farm. There's no sense in you being uncomfortable when I can fix it quite easily with a credit card and a few phone calls."

"I can't just throw on any old thing, Dave," Lizzie objected as she reached for her oversized purse, slinging it over her shoulder as they slowly walked down the hospital hallway. "A girl kinda likes to try on things every now and then, you know."

"Which you can still do, in the privacy of the family home," Dave answered easily, slipping on his sunglasses as they stepped out into the bright Piermont sunshine. "Anything that doesn't fit exactly like you want can be shipped right back without a problem." Leaning down, he grinned as he whispered in her ear, "And I can think of a few ways that we both might enjoy the personal fashion show."

Smacking at his arm, Lizzie humphed, "I don't exactly recall you being so keen on gettin' me into clothes. You seem awfully skilled at gettin' me out of 'em, usually when I'm not lookin'."

"I promise to be on my best behavior," Dave promised solemnly, the smile still playing on his lips as they reached the SUV Dave had rented for their duration in Piermont. Helping her into the passenger seat, he frowned as she stifled another yawn, her fingers fumbling against the seat belt. Swatting her hand away, he clicked the belt into place as he murmured, "But apparently all of that can wait. You're going straight to bed when we get to the house, honey."

Shaking her head, red curls flying in all directions, Lizzie objected, "But Dave, I'm not sleepy anymore. I caught my cat nap and now I'm as fit as a fiddle, so there's nothing…"

"Nothing else to talk about," Dave finished sternly, sweeping a gentle finger under the dark shadows forming underneath her tired eyes. "I happen to know from personal experience that you haven't been sleeping more than two or three hours at a time, babe. That's not good for babies or their mamas."

Stroking his fingers against Lizzie's knee as her eyes drifted closed again, her long lashes resting against her pale cheek, Dave inhaled, almost painfully as he slipped into the driver's seat. Damn, he'd almost lost this. This beauty...this overwhelming sense of completion. Shaking off those melancholy thoughts, he rubbed slow comforting circles around the inside of her knee as he navigated the country roads, reminding himself that he'd found her...found them...and nothing would come between him and his wife again. He wouldn't allow it

Pulling out his phone as she dozed beside him, he made a quick, quiet phone call to JJ. Explaining what he needed and enduring a short round of teasing, JJ agreed to take care of them. And hanging up, he knew that by morning, Lizzie would have a wardrobe to rival any prospective mother, compliments of his credit card and JJ's unassailable taste. Mission completed, he slowly turned the SUV on the bumpy gravel lane leading to her childhood home.

Home sweet home…for all of them.


	144. Chapter 144

**Author's Note: First of all, we have exciting news, my friends! Nominating ballots for "The Profiler's Choice Awards" are ready and waiting for you at the "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. So please, everyone, come on over and name some of your favorite fics and authors. Lets honor our favorite stories and authors on the CM site! We want to hear from you. Rules and guidelines are also available at the forum and as always, tonnie2001969 and I would be delighted to answer any questions that you may have. Now, let's get nominating! Our first ballots are beginning to trickle in and we love hearing from each of you! **

**For anyone willing to help us advertise the awards, we've created a short author's note template available on both my profile page (ilovetvalot) and my co-author's (tonnie2001969). We'd love to have everybody's help making this venture a huge and fun success. Please feel free to copy and paste it into your own author's notes and/or profiles! With your help, I believe this can become an annual event that we ALL look forward to seeing. I hope that you're all as eager as I am to see this incredible project lift off. And a very **_**BIG**_** thanks to all the authors helping us advertise these awards! We truly appreciate any assistance you can provide.**

**We also have several new interviews for you at the forum with the incredibly talented **_**lazywriter123, TML, and Wraith Ink-Slinger**_**. Please join us as we get to know them.**

**Finally, we've added a few new discussion threads for our reader's pleasure. The First is called, **_**"The BAU Bullpen is Open for Business"**_**. It introduces a podcast run by a couple of our fellow authors, **_**BonesBird**_** and **_**clarebones**_**. Please check it out! And lastly, we have our newest **_**Fortune Cookie Friday**_** prompt available. I hope you all will check these exciting threads out. **

**And don't forget to get out there and nominate your favorite authors and stories. We're excited to hear from you!**

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Four**

Seeing his wife slowly return to awareness out of the corner of his eye, Dave smiled as he heard her irritated, "I did it again! How is it every time I get the least bit still, suddenly, I'm sleepin' like a pig in sunshine?"

"Because obviously my daughter has decided that both she and her mama need the rest. Thankfully, she must take after me," Dave chuckled, easily navigating a shallow dip in the drive as he guided the vehicle toward home.

"Lord, we better hope not," Lizzie grumbled tiredly, fiddling with her seatbelt as the white columns of the farmhouse came into view.

"Hey! I'm offended!" Dave mock-growled, dropping his hand over his wife's rounded tummy, stroking his fingers against the mound that covered his child.

"You'll get over it," Lizzie retorted, patting his fingers as she slid the seatbelt out of its clasp as he parked the vehicle beside Emily's rental.

"Sit still," Dave ordered gently, squeezing her fingers before he jumped out and moved quickly to her side, pulling open her door and reaching for her.

"Dave," Lizzie admonished as he wrapped strong hand around her hips, easing her to the ground, "I'm fully capable of getting in and out of a vehicle without personal assistance. You can't keep doing this for the next five months!"

"Give me one good reason why I can't," Dave answered simply, wrapping his arm around her growing waist as they moved toward the front porch. Leaning down to drop a kiss on her forehead, he grinned as he added, wriggling his eyebrows, "Besides, I'm not so stupid as to pass up any chance to get my hands on your body, Elizabeth."

"Shhh!" Lizzie warned him as they reached they rounded the curve in the sidewalk, squinting her eyes against a sudden burst of afternoon sunlight. "Unless you want to have what happens in our marriage bed hung out for view like the laundry, then I suggest you keep your mouth shut! I don't cotton to being grilled by Auntie Myrtie again on your particular…assets…, if you get my drift!"

Laughing as he remembered Aunt Myrtle's probing questions to Lizzie regarding his successful navigation of their marriage bed, Dave asked, "What exactly did she wanna know once she got you out of the room, honey?"

"Never you mind," Lizzie muttered, coloring slightly as she shook her head, pressing a hand against her suddenly warm cheek. "Ain't for repeatin' in mixed company."

"That bad?" Dave laughed, tightening his arm around Lizzie's waist as they navigated the stone pathway.

"I just wanna know where Auntie learned words like that," Lizzie muttered under her breath. "Besides, it isn't as if I carry a measurin' tape to bed with me!"

"I think I've proved more than once that I'm enough to meet your needs, haven't I?" Dave growled in her ear, adding, "And I believe your aunt, bless her obviously crazy heart, was married once upon a time, wasn't she? I'm assuming her… education… has been furthered along the way." He bit back a smile as he watched his wife's high-boned cheeks flush a beautiful shade of pink. He shook his head, knowing that his wife still was amazed at how …adventurous…they were in the bedroom.

"This is the South, Dave. Good girls don't just go about throwing those kinds of words around willy nilly! Lord have mercy, I thought my Mama was gonna have a heart attack of her own when Auntie started wantin' to compare details! Which should have taught her that there are a few things that are better left sacred," Lizzie muttered, shaking her abundant curls. Elbowing Dave's side just when he was about retort, she whispered violently, "Now shut your mouth, Dave, before we reach the porch. You know Granddaddy's not exactly forgiven you for that entire fiasco. No reason to heap on anymore reasons for him to put a load of buckshot in your backside, now is there?"

"Don't remind me," Dave sighed, plastering a smile on his lips as they reached the bottom step of the very porch that he had once helped repair. Other than a gleaming coat of paint, nothing else had changed on Lizzie's childhood home, and he had a very distinct feeling that everyone, himself included, would prefer it stayed that way.

"How's your daddy, Girl?" Granddaddy called out immediately, toeing his wicker rocker into motion with the tip of his boot as he sat in his permanently assigned spot.

"Feelin' better," Lizzie smiled easily, relieved that she was giving an entirely honest answer to her elder. "Doctor said another week or so and he should be able to come home." Looking at Emily and Penelope standing stock-still on the porch, she asked, confused, "What are ya'll doin' out here? Thought ya'll had to get packed.

"I was just talking to Agent Prentiss about a mutual acquaintance of ours," Gertrude said vaguely with a pointed look at a pale Emily.

Biting her lips, Penelope grabbed Lizzie's arm. "And I was waiting for you while they...visited," Penelope inserted diplomatically, flashing Dave a warning look around Lizzie's back. "I'll just get our Little Mama inside," she said, flashing Emily a sympathetic smile. "Good luck," she whispered to Dave as she dragged Lizzie inside the house.

"What the hell is going on?" Dave asked slowly as he watched Aunt Myrtle's eyes narrow, her fingers clenching around the swatter in her hand. Looking at Granddaddy, he asked quietly, "Did somebody sit on one of Myrtle's green men?"

"Your worry's in the wrong di-rection, boy," Granddaddy snorted, letting out a stream of brown tobacco juice, missing Dave's pants' leg by a mere inch.

"Excuse me?" Dave muttered, taking a pro-active step to the side as he saw Lizzie's favorite elder add another pinch of shredded tobacco to his already overfilled jaw. How that man could be as blind as a bat and still have such perfect aim amazed Dave. He was seriously considering having the man's eyesight tested, wanting confirmation of that so-called disability. But he had a feeling that now was not the time to focus on such things, if the glares he and Emily were seeing were any indication. As Lizzie would tell him, he obviously had bigger fish to fry.

"Seems to me you got a sight more to be worried 'bout than Myrtie's out of town friends," Gertrude replied archly, her perfectly styled grey coif tilting angrily to the side as she stared daggers in his direction, tapping her cane ominously against the wooden plank floor.

For someone who had only been associated with Lizzie's family for the past few days, Dave thought darkly that the elderly woman that had willingly hid his wife from him for weeks was fitting in nicely with the geriatric crowd. Entirely too nicely in his expert opinion.

"My green men got more sense than that boy does," Myrtle humphed with a quick rap of her swatter, the thin plastic hitting the edge of her rocking chair with a loud slap on the otherwise quiet porch. Out of the corner of his eye, Dave watched the normally staid and unshakable Emily Prentiss take a step back, placing herself well out of striking range of the decidedly volatile and unpredictable fly-swatter wielding aunt.

"Told my Lizzie not to mix her well water with a Yankee's cistern," the elder Winstead added darkly, raising his rheumy eyes to peer at the tall man standing afore him. "Can't pull back the dipper once'ts dropped in the bucket."

Carefully meeting Emily's guarded eyes, Dave asked under his breath, "Any idea what set them off, Prentiss? If you've got clues, now would be a good time to share."


	145. Chapter 145

**Author's Note: We've got several notes for you today, guys, so hang with us for a second. **

_**First of all, we'd like to talk to you about our next challenge! **__**Wanna fun way to celebrate Halloween this year? Join us for our Round 5 Challenge – The Candy Land Adventure on Chit Chat on Author's Corner. Our challenges are open to any author, regardless of experience…and we have a spot ready for you. All you have to do is suggest a CM pairing and the name of a popular candy. We'll take all the suggestions, present them to the Great Pumpkin, then assign you a pairing & candy type at the first of October. You'll have a month to write your story, and it can be whatever you choose…drabble or epic, romance or friendship. And it does not have to be about Halloween or candy! For more information and to sign up, visit our forum, Chit Chat on Author's Corner, and click on Round 5 challenge!**_

**Second of all, we have exciting news, my friends! Nominating ballots for "The Profiler's Choice Awards" are ready and waiting for you at the "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. So please, everyone, come on over and name some of your favorite fics and authors. Lets honor our favorite stories and authors on the CM site! We want to hear from you. Rules and guidelines are also available at the forum and as always, tonnie2001969 and I would be delighted to answer any questions that you may have. Now, let's get nominating! Our first ballots are beginning to trickle in and we love hearing from each of you! **

**For anyone willing to help us advertise the awards, we've created a short author's note template available on both my profile page (ilovetvalot) and my co-author's (tonnie2001969). We'd love to have everybody's help making this venture a huge and fun success. Please feel free to copy and paste it into your own author's notes and/or profiles! With your help, I believe this can become an annual event that we ALL look forward to seeing. I hope that you're all as eager as I am to see this incredible project lift off. And a very **_**BIG**_** thanks to all the authors helping us advertise these awards! We truly appreciate any assistance you can provide.**

**Additionally, we have a wonderful new interview for you at the forum as well. Come, as we get to know the talented cm4ever this week.**

**Also, we wanted to take a second to thank everyone that continues to read, review, favorite and alert our stories. Writing is a pleasure, but you guys, you make it worthwhile!**

**And please, fellow authors and readers, don't forget to get out there and nominate your favorite authors and stories. We're excited to hear from you!**

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**One Hundred and Forty-Five**

"It seems that Ms. Hollister has informed the other elders of the family regarding the particulars of your separation," Emily murmured, her lips barely moving as she kept her eyes keenly attuned to her current inquisitors. For the last ten minutes, she had found herself facing what could only be described as a modern-day version of the Spanish Inquisition, the three elderly members of Lizzie's self-appointed protective squad intent on determining her very intentions in wrecking the Southerner's marriage.

"Ain't deef over here, girl!" Granddaddy growled, releasing another stream of tobacco from his lips, this time sailing near the hem of Emily's pants as she stumbled backward. Narrowing his eyes as the brunette caught herself against the wooden railing, he added, "And if that's fancy speak for we found out you were makin' time with a married fella, then I reckon you told it true."

"Granddaddy," Dave said slowly, holding up a hand to hopefully forestall what was certain to be an unfortunate discussion, "It wasn't then, nor is NOW, what you think."

"What I think," Gertrude said imperiously, glaring at Emily with flashing eyes intent on wreaking havoc, "is that my good friend, Ambassador Prentiss, would be scandalized to know how operations are run within your unit. Especially when it violates the sanctity of marriage."

"Oh, yeah," Emily muttered in an aside to Dave, careful to keep at least six inches between them. "Ms. Hollister also happens to serve on several committees. With my mother.

Eyes shifting from Gertrude to Emily, Dave shrugged, "You're on your own with that one. I think I've got my own hands full over here," he said, nodding to where Aunt Myrtle sat clenching her fly swatter with a death grip.

"I knew somethin' smelled rotten when our Lizzie got here," Myrtle humphed, the plastic webbing of her weapon whapping against the wooden arms of her chair. "Looked like she'd gone three rounds with a brassed off billygoat! And now we find out it was all because of a no-good Yankee scalawag!"

"Now, Aunt Myrtle," Dave soothed, taking a step forward, his hands extended in what he hoped would pass as the universal sign for peace. "Nothing happened. At least not what you're imagining. And Lizzie's forgiven us for any deception that happened."

"My girl's kind heart always did get in the way of seein' sense," Granddaddy grumped, fingering his cane as his rheumy eyes glared at Dave. "And ain't no use trying to use that Yankee doubletalk. Call a spade a spade, boy. Ya flat out lied like a dog. And liars ain't got no place bein' round my Lizzie. Got their place in the lake of fire, yes they do."

"Granddaddy, this was something that Emily and I both regret, but it was done to help solve a case," Dave tried to explain, then realized by the thumping of the old man's cane that he wasn't exactly in the mood to judiciously listen to any facts.

"And I assume if that great FBI told you two to jump off a bridge, you'd do as you were told and strand that little woman with a baby on the way again?" Gertrude said sternly, pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. Sniffing delicately, she pressed her fingers to her lips as she declared, shaking her head, "Tis a shame. An absolute shame."

"And I let the liar sit next to Myrvin more than once," Myrtle moaned, wisping the flyswatter through the air against imaginary enemies.

"Who's Myrvin?" Emily whispered, backing up even further against the railing.

"Her favorite green man," Dave muttered, refusing to take his eyes off the geriatric trio that had apparently elected themselves as his judge and jury. And maybe even executioner.

"Wait just a minute," Emily hissed back as she cast wary eyes toward the senile woman. "Myrvin the Martian?"

"The name of Myrtle's Martian is what you're having difficulty with here?" Dave hissed under his breath. "These people want blood, Emily. Ours!"

"And whose fault is that?" Emily hissed back.

"Ain't that sweet, Gertie? I do believe they're havin' a lover's spat," Granddaddy said, his voice laced with ice.

"It would appear so," Gertrude replied, eying Dave and Emily coldly.

"I won't have it, you hear?" Myrtle said, hopping to her feet and swinging her fly swatter wildly at Dave and Emily. Making sharp contact with Dave's shoulder, she yelled, "I swear, I'll have my men haul your butt on their spaceship, you cheat!"

"Damn it, Myrtle! You all know damn good and well how much I love Elizabeth!" Dave yelped, stumbling backward as his ass met the railing of the porch, precariously balancing against the very wooden beam that he himself had helped replace just a few months prior.

"Oh yes, Agent Rossi, I saw the evidence of your love every night when those tears poured out that dear girl's eyes," Gertrude hissed, her cane landing with heavy accuracy against Dave's foot, twisting at the last moment as she jammed the tip against his toes then his ankle. And as he yelped and attempted to escape her excellent aim, she let loose with another volley, this time walloping his shin bone with the edge of the wooden weapon.

"And that ain't never gonna happen again, whippersnapper!" Granddaddy charged, jamming his cane into Dave's chest with much more force than the elderly man should have possessed. And for a bare moment, Dave had the presence of mind to make a mental note to tell Lizzie that her grandfather was obviously in far better health than any of them expected.

And Emily Prentiss could only watch in amused horror as the legendary David Rossi sailed over the edge of the porch, landing in an undignified heap in what appeared to be a bevy of rosebushes below. Oh, wait until she told JJ and Morgan about how the oh so mighty had fallen so far.

Because David Rossi had been taken out by the geriatric g-force.


	146. Chapter 146

**Author's Note: As you all know by now, we are in full swing on the Profiler's Choice Awards hosted on "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". And we'd like to offer an extra incentive to get those nominations rolling in. For the next five people to complete the nomination ballot in its entirety, I would be happy to write a oneshot of your pairing preference (hetero, slash or femslash, doesn't matter!). We have an abundance of incredible stories and authors to choose from this year and we have already received many wonderful nominations. Just to refresh your memory though, tonnie2001969 and myself (ilovetvalot) have removed ourselves from eligibility in the interest of avoiding all appearances of self-promotion. But, we want to make this an incredible experience for each one of you and give you a well-rounded final voting selection to choose from. So let's all put on our reading caps and pick our favorites! **

**Also, don't forget to sign up for our newest challenge at the forum. We're honoring Halloween with our first ever "Candy Land Challenge" and signups run through September 30th! Details are at the forum!**

**As always, guys, Happy Reading!**

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Six**

Sudden footsteps scurried down the polished hallway just before the screen door slammed open. Jerking her eyes around the crowded porch, Elizabeth Winstead Rossi demanded, glaring at her various relatives and friends, "What in the name of tarnation is goin' on out here? I swear, it sounded like a herd of elephants was atrompin' through Mama's flower garden!"

"Ain't no elephant, girlie. 'Tis an overgrown weasel that took a tiptoe through the tulips," Granddaddy declared righteously, his eyes narrowing as he aimed through the slats to the flowers below, the brown streaming making perfect aim.

"What in blue blazes are you talking about, Granddaddy?" Lizzie asked, confused. Looking to the two elderly ladies for clarification, she only received identical blank looks in return.

"Uh, Lizzie," Penelope said hesitantly from her position behind Lizzie's shoulder, having followed her bustling pregnant friend at the moment of the first raised word, "I think if you'll look around, you might find that one of our party is not exactly among us anymore."

Her eyes widening, Lizzie propped both hands on her hips as she swung another glare at the gathered group, Emily included. "Okay, people. What have you done with Dave?"

But before any answers could be forthcoming, a loud groan sounded from below her, causing Lizzie to immediately turn in the direction of the railing. And as she looked over the railing for the second time in less than a year, she could only mutter, "I hope your head is as hard as I think it is, Dave. I ain't paying to fix Mama's porch again!"

An hour later, David Rossi eased his battered body out of the shower and winced as he caught a look at his reflection in the mirror. Face covered in small scratches, compliments of Lizzie's mother's prize roses, he looked...and felt...like he'd danced three rounds with Ali. And like a pro, the prizefighter had handed him his ass. Or rather, three elderly individuals, with more stamina than sense, had shown him the error of his ways. As if he hadn't already seen it for himself.

Rubbing the small bruise in the center of his chest, compliments of Granddaddy's cane, Dave bit back a groan. He'd been bested by a geezer. Well, three geezers...but still! A man had his pride, didn't he?

But he had a strong suspicion that his pride had gone the way of the dinosaur...made extinct by the fact that one tiny woman held his heart in the palm of his hand.

"Can't hide in there all day, Dave," Lizzie called from outside the closed bathroom door, her voice entirely too chipper for the circumstances. "Come out here and let me see how bad the damage is!"

"I'm fine, honey," Dave called back, trying to sound more positive than he felt. And in the grand scheme of things, he was certain that couldn't be considered a lie to his wife, now could it? He was, after all, only trying to keep her from any further worry. And he was fine. He would heal

Eventually.

The sound of the opening door invaded his thoughts as he suddenly came face to face with the decidedly unhappy face of his young wife.

"Honestly, Lizzie," Dave muttered as he grabbed a towel, rubbing his damp hair. "I'd have thought that if anyone respected a closed door, it would be you."

"Not when it stands between me and my idiotic husband, I don't," Lizzie declared easily, frowning as she saw the much brighter scratches on his normally loveable face. Pushing him down on the closed toilet seat, she tilted his chin as she clucked, "You lied. This is not fine. This is not fine at all."

"Honey, it's nothing to worry about," Dave objected valiantly as he tried to control the urge to wince again, dropping the towel as his hands easily found a home on her hips, pulling her closer to him. "It's just a few scratches. They'll heal over time."

"Uh huh," Lizzie said, swatting away his hands as she moved toward the medicine cabinet. "And Daddy's prize sow is flying around the barn right now, too. Honest to goodness, David Rossi, did you have to go and antagonize Granddaddy? He's eighty-five years old!"

"Me antagonize him?" Dave yelped suddenly, jerking his head up. "Lizzie, the man's a menace waiting to happen. And that cane of his ought to be declared a concealed weapon and confiscated immediately!"

"You just thank your lucky stars it was his cane that he grabbed! His shotgun was propped right behind him...and what he thinks you done...that's a shootin' offense in his world," Lizzie retorted, rummaging through the cabinet and reaching for the alcohol. Grabbing some cotton balls, she quickly unscrewed the cap and dowsed the balls.

Jerking back as she approached, the pungent smell of the antiseptic hanging in the air, Dave shook his head. "Honey, I'm fine. We don't need to..."

"Oh, just hold still, you overgrown baby," Lizzie sighed, dabbing at the small scratches on his face as he hissed in a breath.

"Damn it, honey. That stings!" Dave complained loudly, pulling her down to sit on his towel covered lap.

"Oh, hush!" Lizzie murmured softly, "It's not peroxide. Just a little alcohol." Finally satisfied with her work, she tossed the cotton balls into the trash, frowning as she looked at him. "Now, how in the world am I gonna explain you to Mama?"

"We'll tell her that her daddy assaulted me," Dave snorted as Lizzie scooted out of his lap, escaping his grasping fingers.

"We'll do no such thing," Lizzie called over her shoulder as she sailed back into the bedroom. "She's got enough on her plate right now without hearin' such nonsense."

Cinching the towel tighter around his waist as he followed her into the bright room, Dave muttered, "I don't think me ending up in the rose bushes is exactly nonsense, Elizabeth. And even in her concerned state for your father, your mother's going to notice that I just didn't cut myself shaving."

"I got it!" Lizzie declared triumphantly, turning on her heel to face him, grabbing for the poster of the bed as she caught her balance. "Penny's not left yet, and that girl carries enough make up to give a Mary Kay girl a run for her pink Caddy. We'll just use some of those tubes of her and have you covered up lickety split."

Reaching her in two easy steps, Dave settled sturdy, steadying hands on her hips as he shook his head violently. "Oh hell no. I think I've been subjected to enough indignities today without becoming Garcia's personal troll doll to decorate as she will. I draw the line at any form of makeup, woman!"

* * *

_**Author's Note 2 - Also guys, please don't forget that if you'd like to advertise the awards on your own profile pages or stories, there's a short blurb on my (ilovetvalot) and Tonnie's (tonnie2001969) profile page for you to copy and paste if you choose! **_


	147. Chapter 147

**Author's Note: Hello, all our fanfic friends! Several announcements today, so, hang on tight!**

**First, our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" has a new interview up with the fabulously talented klcm. Please stop by and get to know her and several other of the brilliant authors in CM fanfic. And if anyone has an author that they'd like to see interviewed, please shoot me a private message. I promise that we'll do our best to coax them over to talk to us!**

**Second, there are FOUR days left for the October Challenge, "The Candyland Challenge". In the spirit of Halloween, the rules are simple. Name a candy, a pairing you'd like to see written and the pairing you normally write. You'll be assigned a pairing and a candy by October 1st. You will have until Halloween (October 31, 2010) to post a story with your candy prompt and pairing. It does NOT have to be a Halloween story...it just must contain a reference to the candy. For example, if you were assigned a "Goo Goo Bar" as a candy, you could make that the candy an actual BAR in your story. The more creative, the better. Sign-ups are at the forum or you can shoot us a PM (ilovetvalot OR tonnie2001969) if you're interested.**

**Also, please, please, please don't forget to get your nominations in for the first EVER "Profiler's Choice Awards. Nomination ballots and rules are at the forum. Don't forget, I'm (ilovetvalot) still willing to write a oneshot of your pairing choosing to the next five people to complete a ballot. This is a wonderful opportunity to give your favorite stories and authors the recognition that they deserve on ff. net. Also, please remember, in the interest of just saying "no" to self-promotion, ilovetvalot and tonnie2001969 are NOT eligible for nomination.**

**Also, readers & authors, please come sound off on our newest discussion thread. Tell us how you'd feel about the idea of a fanfic based CM Christmas Gift Fic Exchange. We're eagerly soliciting opinions and ideas!**

**So, please, drop by and get a blank ballot and tell the fanfic community who YOUR favorites are! We'd love to have you!**

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Seven**

Slapping a hand against her husband's bruised chest, Lizzie narrowed her eyes as she pushed him down on the edge of the bed. "Then if you got a better idea, Mr. Smarty Pants, I suggest you start sharin'. Mama's expecting us back at the hospital later, you know."

"Oh, hell, babe, I'll tell her that I tripped. Don't worry about it," Dave murmured, mouth going dry as he watched Lizzie's gown pull taut over her breasts as she dropped her hands to her hips. How was it that this tiny vixen had managed to completely enthrall him?

Sighing heavily as she catalogued the wounds on her husband's handsome face, Lizzie shook her head. "I was only gone for five minutes. Five!"

"Hey, this isn't on me. Granddaddy and Aunt Myrtle's attack I sorta expected. But that Hollister woman..." Dave began angrily, straightening his shoulders.

"Has taken very good care of me," Lizzie reminded him softly, meeting his eyes.

"She kept you from me," Dave retorted, reaching out for his wife only to have her pull away. "When I think how I tore apart Washington..."

"She was doing exactly what I asked her to do, Dave," Lizzie replied patiently. "And she's an honorary member of this family, so..."

"I'd better get on board," Dave finished for her, knowing her speech by heart. "Fine. I'm on board. Doesn't mean I won't try to shove her off the ship."

Biting back a smile, Lizzie rolled her eyes as she heard a slamming car door in the distance. Glancing out the window, she smiled. "You won't have to...seems our guests are on the way back to the airport. Gonna be a long trip for poor Emily."

"Gertie's her problem now, not mine!" Dave said victoriously, barely resisting the urge to pump a fist in the air. Perhaps the fates were beginning to smile in his direction after all.

"But she's only a phone call away," Lizzie said sweetly. Turning she nailed Dave with a hard look as she said, "She told me so...three times."

"You wouldn't," Dave said softly as he finally captured her, gripping his wife's hips gently as he stared up into her green gaze.

"Wouldn't I?" Lizzie asked sweetly, brushing the backs of her fingers against his cheek.

"You love me," Dave reminded her, turning to brush her fingers with a light kiss. "You told me so. Multiple times."

Sighing heavily, Lizzie cupped the back of Dave's head as he nuzzled her stomach, lovingly pressing tender kisses over the small bulge that was their daughter. "I suppose I do," she murmured as his hands slowly but surely eased her light gown up her legs. "Now just what do you think you're doing?" she chastened him playfully as she felt his tongue slide along her bare stomach.

"If you're still asking that question, I'm not doing it right," Dave chuckled, his warm breath gusting against her skin as his hands gently cupped her belly. "I can't believe I put somebody in there," he whispered, pressing another slow kiss to her tummy, his hand sliding reverently around her flushed skin. "We made a miracle, Elizabeth," he murmured, resting his forehead against her.

"I'm makin' her...you just had to contribute one ingredient to the recipe," Lizzie laughed, threading his salt and pepper hair through her fingers as she relaxed into his embrace.

"It was a hell of an important component, woman," Dave growled playfully, nipping her hip with his teeth.

"Quit that swearin'," Lizzie retorted, slapping his bare shoulder, "What if she can hear you?"

"Then she knows how much her father adores her mother," Dave whispered, rising to pull the nightgown bunched at Lizzie's hips over her head. "And I think, Daddy needs to remind Mama how very much that's the case," Dave said softly, dropping a kiss against the hollow of Lizzie's neck as he let his damp towel fall to the floor.

Dropping back to the soft mattress below him, Dave drew Lizzie to stand between his legs, taking a swollen breast between his lips.

"D-dave," Lizzie shivered, clutching his shoulders as her eyes slid shut and her head dropped back. "It's still broad daylight out," she moaned softly, her word holding little conviction.

"Good. Better light to watch you fall apart in my hands," Dave muttered, licking a puckered nipple before curling his tongue around it and pulling it back into his mouth as his hands slid around to cup her bare bottom. "So sweet," he groaned around her. "Never get tired of your taste, Lizzie," he whispered, suckling harder as a soft cry left her lips.

Burying her fingers in his hair as he kissed a path across her chest to capture her other breast between his lips, Lizzie felt herself sinking against him. Gasping as he moved his lips to her neck, she felt him shift her, bringing her astride his strong thighs. Turning her head to seek his warm lips, she sighed as his hands moved over her back, cradling her as their tongues tangled.

Sliding his tongue against hers as their kiss built in passion, Dave groaned as she moved a hand between them, cupping his hardness in her hand, sliding her fingers over his length. "Want you, Lizzie. So much. Now," he breathed, pulling her hand away from him to nudge her nether lips insistently.

"Oh, yes," Lizzie shuddered as he slowly penetrated her slick folds, her body gliding over his. Biting her lip as his length slid against that secret spot, she whimpered, bucking slightly in his arms. Moaning as Dave moved his hand between them, his thumb stroking that hidden button, she felt her nipples pebble against his chest as he thrust gently into her.

"God, Elizabeth," Dave groaned, dropping his head to her neck as he buried himself inside her wet heat. "Honey, you're so amazingly tight," he hissed, his staff flexing inside her. "Move, baby," he whispered, grasping her hips gently. "Move for me, sweetheart," he ordered gently as she slowly slid against him, her hips rising and falling slowly.

"Dave," Lizzie moaned, her head falling back as she took his length, their bodies finding a slow sensual rhythm.

Gazing at her, her breast thrust forward and head dropped back in abandon, Dave groaned. "So beautiful," he whispered, trailing fingers down her craned neck as she moved against him. Taking her hand in his and guiding it to the heart of her femininity, he ordered gently, "Let me see you touch yourself, Elizabeth. I want to watch you doing it while you ride me."

Eyes flashing open and widening as she met her husband's heated gaze, Lizzie stilled. "I c-can't!"

Leaning forward to kiss her pink lips gently, he whispered against her lips, "You can." Guiding her fingers between them he pressed them against her moist bud. "You know how good it feels, baby. Let me watch."

Biting her lip as she stroked her fingers against that sweet spot, she choked back a moan as she watched his eyes devour her as his body moved inside her.

"God, that's hot," Dave groaned, tightening his arms around her as he thrust a little harder into her heat. Watching as her fingers danced along her wet folds, he hissed in pleasure as she let a pleasured gasp escape her lips. "God, sweetheart," Dave groaned as she pulled her fingers away. Capturing her hand in his, he pulled her fingers to his lips, sucking her juices from her fingers. Releasing her fingers from his mouth, he pulled her closer, holding her tight as their bodies moved in unison toward a common goal. "Tell me you'll do that for me again when we get home," he gasped, "In our bed. Where I can watch you all night."

"Oh God, yes, Dave!" Lizzie moaned, that wonderful pleasure hovering just out of reach as his body surged into his. Moving over him faster, Lizzie panted, "Please, Dave! I need to..."

The sweat from their bodies blended, as Dave tightened his hands around Lizzie's narrow hips, sliding her down his staff. "Say it, babe," he murmured roughly against her neck. "You know what it does to me when you say it," he growled, sucking sharply at her breast.

"You already know," Lizzie wailed, feeling her release building as he deliberately slowed his purposeful strokes.

"We both know I can keep you on the edge all night," Dave whispered wickedly, licking his way up her neck. "Say it, baby and I'll give you what you want," he said with a heated look.

"Please!" Lizzie gasped, trying to grind herself against him only to feel his hands stilling her.

"Please what, sweetheart," Dave goaded, pressing a kiss softly to her neck as he watched his very proper little wife struggle between her desire for release and her conventional nature.

"Do it," she begged, trying to wedge her hand between them, determined to have what her body had deemed necessary.

Capturing her questing hand, he pressed a slow wet kiss to her wrist. "Ah, ah, ah...not this time."

"David," Lizzie wailed, arching her hips against him as she felt his length twitch inside her. "Blast you," she hissed against his ear. "Make me cum!"

Hearing those dirty words from his sweet wife's lips catapulted him into motion. Stroking her bundle of nerves with his thumb as he rocked his hips against hers, Dave barely stifled a groan as her sweet body began to contract around him, her cries filling the room. Glancing toward the window, Dave sent a hasty thank you heavenward that it remained closed as his wife's volume increased.

Groaning heavily as he surged into her one last time, Dave heard her high pitched scream as she collapsed against him as his body found its own release. Breathing heavily, he fell backward on the bed, bringing her with him as they both fought for oxygen.

Pulling her closer, Dave realized easily that oxygen was not nearly as important as this woman was…and always would be.

* * *

_**Author's Note 2 - Also guys, please don't forget that if you'd like to advertise the awards on your own profile pages or stories, there's a short blurb on my (ilovetvalot) and Tonnie's (tonnie2001969) profile page for you to copy and paste if you choose! **_

**_Again, thanks to everyone reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting this story!_**


	148. Chapter 148

_**Author's Note: Hello, readers! A couple of notes for you today.**_

_**First, please remember to stop by our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" and grab a nomination ballot for the first EVER Profiler's Choice Awards! You have TWELVE days remaining to nominate your picks and we'd love to hear from each one of you. Come, help us make sure that your favorite stories and authors get the recognition that they deserve.**_

_**Also at the forum, signups for our first ever ff. net based "Criminal Minds Christmas Gift Fic Exchange" are underway! All you need to do is reply to the thread at the forum or send us a PM telling us 1) Which pairings you would feel comfortable writing, 2) the central pairing you'd like to be featured in the story you receive as a Christmas gift, and 3) Name a Christmas carol plus three Christmas-y prompts you'd like to see in the story you receive as a Christmas gift (you'll only have to use three of the four items in the actual fic). Assignments will be given on November 1st and you'll have until DECEMBER 25, 2010 to post your gift. Further details are available at the forum. Please, let's make this a Merry Christmas for ALL!**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Eight**

Sliding his hand through her damp curls, Dave brushed the hair back from Lizzie's glowing face, pressing a tender kiss against her temple. "Okay?" he asked quietly, shifting her body onto the comfortable bed as he leaned over her, bracing his weight on his elbow.

"Uh huh," she panted unevenly, her chest rising and falling erratically. "Still don't understand why you wanna drag me on that sin train you're on though," she gasped.

"Hell, honey, I don't wanna be lonely on the trip," Dave chuckled, pressing another kiss to her parted lips.

"The things you get me to do," Lizzie groaned, pressing her hot face into his chest as she felt his arms enfold her protectively.

"And you've loved each and every one of them," Dave teased as his heartbeat returned to normal.

"Just makes it even that much bigger a sin," Lizzie grumbled into his chest.

"Trust me, babe, nothing we do together in our bed is a sin. They tell me there's sanctity in marriage," Dave reminded her, sliding his fingers through her soft curls. Cupping the nape of her neck, Dave guided Lizzie's eyes back to his. "Now, tell me the truth, you okay, honey? We didn't get too carried away, did we? All little passengers safe and accounted for?" he asked sliding his hand over her belly.

Smiling faintly, Lizzie shook her head. "Everybody is fine. Just fine," she whispered, covering his hand with hers. Pillowing her head against his chest, Lizzie asked softly, "You're really happy about the baby, aren't you?"

"You have to ask?" Dave grinned against her hair, his hand drawing soft circles over her distended belly. "I thought I'd made it abundantly clear exactly how thrilled I am, Lizzie."

"You have to admit, Dave, this came as a bit of a surprise to you," Lizzie murmured, her fingers rubbing softly against the fine hairs on his arm, feeling his corded muscles ripple beneath her touch. "You showed up down here without so much as a by your leave, only to find that there's not just one of me now, but two."

Drawing in a deep breath, Dave tilted her chin as he stared into her satiated green eyes. Tangling his fingers in her soft curls, he said, "Honey, having a child with you is the icing on the cake. This baby is the answer to every prayer we both bombarded the heavens with. And if the heavens are shining on us, then she'll look just her mama, curls and sass and all." Pausing, he added, a grin playing on his lips again, "And I wasn't exactly surprised, Lizzie. I had an inkling that all of our practice had been successful before I got here."

"Huh?" Lizzie asked, confused, pushing up against him as she turned prop her chin on his shoulder. "No doublespeak, Dave. It's been too long a day to start decipherin' now."

"I knew before I ever arrived down here that you were having my child, Elizabeth. When I was having Garcia pull every computer B&E that she knew, one of the small pieces of information she recovered was a prescription you had filled at your pharmacy. For prenatal vitamins," Dave explained slowly, feeling her stiffen against him at the revelation.

Lips tightening, Lizzie jerked her glittering eyes back to his. "Is that why you came? For the baby?" she asked tightly, her words scraping out of her suddenly dry throat.

Shocked, Dave could only stare at Lizzie. "What?" he asked softly, one arm tightening around her body.

"Is that why you came flying down here hellbent for leather! Because of the baby?" she asked, her voice growing higher in the still room, the only other sound the whishing of the ceiling fan.

"I came down here to retrieve my wife. See, she took a powder on me before I could explain..."

Pushing out of his arms, Lizzie mindlessly reached for her nightgown. "How do I know that? How do I know that you aren't just trying to make the best of a bad situation?"

"Because I love you, Lizzie," Dave declared adamently, pushing himself up as he reached for her retreating arm. "And I spent weeks upon weeks searching high and low for you well before I knew anything about our baby. And I would have continued to do so, no matter what."

"You can say anything you want, Dave, but things are lookin' mighty suspicious," Lizzie shook her head as she refused to meet his eyes, her heart tightening as she pressed a hand to her swollen stomach. "That dog won't hunt anymore."

"Damn it, Lizzie, if you don't believe me, ask anybody," Dave groaned, mentally kicking himself over and over for opening his mouth and revealing that piece of information. Seeing her still-stiffened shoulders, he added, hopefully convincingly, "Ask Hotch or Morgan or Garcia. Hell, ask Reid. The kid was afraid to come near me for those first weeks when I couldn't find you. They'll tell you, Elizabeth, that I was moving heaven and earth for any piece of information, any lead that could find me my WIFE."

Snorting indelicately as she dangled her legs over the side of the bed, Lizzie muttered, "They're all afraid of you. They'll say whatever you want them to say. They did before, didn't they?"

"Then ask your family. Ask your brothers," Dave shot back quickly, rubbing a worried hand over his face as he stared at the back of his wife's head. "Damn it, for that matter, ask the crazy loons on the front porch. Everyone knew I was searching for you well before I had any inkling that we had created a baby together."

"Why would you honestly expect me to believe you or anyone else?" Lizzie retorted, her jaw clenching as she gripped the thin quilt.

"Because at some point you have to trust me, Elizabeth!" Dave finally snapped, the fear and stress of the last few weeks finally catching up with him. "And you have to stop running. Damn it, you've never been a coward before. Stop acting like one now," he demanded sharply.

Jaw dropping as she watched his face flush with anger, Lizzie stiffened her spine. "I don't have to run anywhere anymore, David. I'm home. You, however, can be thrown out on your Yankee butt and don't you forget it!" she snapped back. "And you can save the wounded bear routine! I ain't the one that put us in this pickle with all the lies and half truths. That was YOU!"

* * *

_**Author's Note 2 - Also guys, please don't forget that if you'd like to advertise the awards on your own profile pages or stories, there's a short blurb on my (ilovetvalot) and Tonnie's (tonnie2001969) profile page for you to copy and paste if you choose! **_

_**Again, thanks to everyone reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting this story!**_


	149. Chapter 149

_**Author's Note: Hello, friends. A couple of announcements for you all today.**_

_**We have FOUR**__** days left to nominate our favorite stories and authors for first ever ff. net based Profiler's Choice Awards located at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". The nomination deadline is October 15, 2010. We have had a great response so far and we still want to hear from you. Rules, deadlines, and the blank ballot are all located at the forum (which can be reached thru a link in both my and tonnie2001969's profile pages).**_

_**We'd also like to announce our first ever ff. net based "Criminal Minds Christmas Gift Fic Exchange"! Sign-ups are simple. Participants can either PM us or join on the forum thread **__**telling us 1) Which pairings you would feel comfortable writing, 2) the central pairing you'd like to be featured in the story you receive as a Christmas gift, and 3) Name a Christmas carol plus three Christmas-y prompts you'd like to see in the story you receive as a Christmas gift (you'll only have to use three of the four items in the actual fic). Assignments will be given on November 1st and you'll have until DECEMBER 25, 2010 to post your gift. Further details are available at the forum. Please, let's make this a Merry Christmas for ALL!**_

_**We also have a new discussion thread open for your comments called, "What Do We, the Authors, Owe Our Readers?" Please drop by and leave your thoughts.**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Nine**

"And you don't think I paid for it?" Dave asked angrily, his shoulders drawn tight as he faced her. "Trust me, Lizzie, every day that I had to wonder if you were safe, if you were taken care of...I paid! Over and over again. Yeah, I knew about the baby before I got here. Sue me," he snorted, his tone heavy. "Because it was one of the few things that got me through the day...knowing that somehow I'd at least managed to give you something you wanted before you left me."

"I had what I wanted, you idiot...well, at least I thought I did until I had to watch that skin flick of yours in Technicolor," Lizzie retorted, hands dropping to her hips .

"No. No! I've already been forgiven for that particular sin, woman!" Dave said, pointing an accusing finger at her as he tried to resist the urge to rip his hair out. "You can't be mad at me for one thing and then start bringing in things we've already settled."

"Hide and watch and see if I cain't," Lizzie replied haughtily, arching a red brow as she stomped her foot against the braided rug.

"Good God, Lizzie, even prisoners can earn parole for good behavior if they've shown remorse," Dave groaned as he jerked his legs over the bed, stalking toward her.

"Not til they've paid their debt to society," Lizzie retorted, her green eyes narrowing as she added, darkly, "Although if you think being married to me is the same as being in prison, we can arrange a jail break lickety split. Aaron's still a lawyer. He'll find a way to dissolve these bars for you."

"What the hell?" Dave sputtered, his feet rooted to the ground for a bare second as he stared at her flashing eyes.

"I didn't stutter," Lizzie answered, her hands propped on her rounded hips as she added, snorting, "Grass greener on the other side of the fence, Dave? Maybe all those declarations you've been spoutin' were just for show. Well, show's over, buster. I ain't gonna be hitched for the rest of my life to a man that's gonna fight the reins every time he sees a pretty filly pass his way."

"That's enough!" Dave roared suddenly, his voice literally rattling the rafters. Reaching out automatically through the red haze coloring his vision, pulling her stiff shoulders flush against his chest as he stared down into surprised, flushed face, Dave ground out slowly, "Listen to me well, Elizabeth Rossi. I'll be damned before I stand by while you accuse me of something that I haven't done. Not any more."

"You listen here…" Lizzie began irately, slamming her hand against Dave's chest.

"No," Dave said, cutting her off in mere seconds. "Shut up before you say something else stupid for our daughter to hear! I love you, Elizabeth. I swear to God, I do. But right now, if you weren't carrying my child, I'd paddle your ass within an inch of your life!"

"I'd like to see you try!" Lizzie hissed, struggling in his arms. "And don't you DARE call me stupid again!"

"Keep asking for it then!" Dave ground out, stilling her movements as gently as he could, never willing to hurt the woman he loved no matter how angry he was. "Listen to me, I love you. I kissed another woman for a job. A job I regret. And it's never going to happen again. That's it. That's all I can give you, Babe. But if you think I'm ever letting you out of this marriage, you've lost it. I've never thought the grass was greener anywhere than my own backyard since the day I married you. And yeah, I knew about the baby. But like I said, I was tearing apart DC long before I knew she was even a glimmer of a possibility. Because my WIFE was MISSING. My wife that I love beyond comprehension was gone. And she was gone because of something I did. But I'm trying to make amends, Elizabeth. I'm fighting like hell for us. And you're still talking about leaving me! Do you have ANY idea what that does to me?"

"How do you think I feel, Dave? Every time I think I know everything...that I have all the pieces...I find out that, nope, I don't!" Lizzie exclaimed tearfully, her fingers clenching around his arms. "How am I supposed to feel?"

Pulling her shaking body against him, Dave buried his face in her hair, squeezing his eyes closed. So much pain. Avoidable pain. And she was right, she didn't have a good reason to believe him. But damn if he could bear listening to her threaten him with a divorce that he knew... he knew would kill him. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. Sorry for all of it. But you can't leave me."

"I don't want to leave you," Lizzie groaned, thumping her fist weakly against his chest as she let him fold her body into his. "I just want the truth!"

"The truth is I love you more than anyone I've ever had in my life before. The truth is that since the day you walked into my life, I haven't looked at another woman. The truth is that I'm thrilled that you're giving me a baby. The truth is that losing you would kill me. And the truth is that I'll die before I allow it to happen. Is that enough truth for you, Lizzie?" he whispered against her hair.

Nodding against his chest, Lizzie blinked back tears at each soft confession. "I'm sorry," she muttered huskily, the simple words seeming trite even to her own ears. Closing her eyes, she whispered, "I'm just so tired."

Feeling her leaning heavily against him, Dave swallowed thickly, lifting her in his arms as he moved back to the bed. Tucking her in, he felt her catch his arm, drawing him down beside her. Wordlessly wrapping her in his arms, he smiled as she rubbed her face against his chest.

"I love you, too. I didn't mean what I said," Lizzie admitted quietly, curling her body to his in the big bed, letting him pull the quilt over them both.

Releasing a shuddery breath as her words penetrated his mind, Dave held her tightly to him. "I'm glad, Lizzie. It would never have happened, but I'm grateful that I won't have to shackle you to my side."

"That'd be okay, too," Lizzie whispered shakily, twining her fingers in his chest hair. "Bein' chained to you wouldn't be so bad."

"Glad you feel that way, babe. I plan on keeping you chained to me for the rest of my life," Dave murmured, brushing his lips against hers. "Both of you," he amended, sliding a hand over her belly.

And this time when they fell asleep, they were both assured that they would wake up together.


	150. Chapter 150

_**Author's Note: Hello fellow readers and authors! A few housekeeping items for the day. First, nominations for the first ever Criminal Minds Profiler's Choice Awards are officially closed. Voting for the nominees will begin shortly. Please watch the forum for the final voting ballot. We will announce when it is available. Congratulations to all those nominees.**_

_**Second, we'd like to encourage you all to take a look at our first ever ff. net based "Criminal Minds Christmas Gift Fic Exchange"! Sign-ups are simple and run through October 31, 2010. Participants can either PM us or join on the forum thread **__**telling us 1) Which pairings you would feel comfortable writing, 2) the central pairing you'd like to be featured in the story you receive as a Christmas gift, and 3) Name a Christmas carol plus three Christmas-y prompts you'd like to see in the story you receive as a Christmas gift (you'll only have to use three of the four items in the actual fic). Assignments will be given on November 1st and you'll have until DECEMBER 25, 2010 to post your gift. Further details are available at the forum. Please, let's make this a Merry Christmas for ALL!**_

_**We also have a new discussion thread open for your comments called, "With Which Character Do You Most Identify and Why?" available at the forum as well as a great new interview with our fellow talented author Starofoberon. Please drop by and leave your thoughts.**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifty**

Two weeks later, both his father-in-law and his marriage were showing marked signs of improvement. Although, he thought tiredly as he edged down the wide staircase at the Winstead home, he was beginning to wonder exactly how much more improvement the older man was going to need before his wife deemed it safe to leave the family bosom.

He had dared to bring up the subject just the night before. What had started out to be simple pillow talk between husband and wife had denigrated into a full-blown …discussion… of Lizzie's desire to stay within touching distance of her father, not wanting to risk any changes in his medical condition. After patiently calming down his now-easily irritated pregnant wife, Dave had assured her that they would do whatever necessary to keep everyone healthy and happy. Even if that meant buying the farm next door and moving lock, stock and barrel to Piermont.

He could learn to live in the South. Hell, he'd managed to be here for three weeks so far and hadn't pulled his weapon once. Personally, he considered that a miracle of Biblical proportions.

Easing into the brightly lit country kitchen, he sniffed appreciatively at the wonderful smells wafting in the doorway, his taste buds having evolved slightly since his first trip to the South. Dave felt his smile widening as he watched his wife flit around the stove, a faded white flour sack apron tied around her growing belly while her even wilder red curls were tucked under a wide headband. Wrapping his arms around her, he pressed a kiss into the crook of her neck as he murmured, "Something sure smells good this morning, babe."

Swatting at his roaming hands, Lizzie giggled as she deftly flipped a pancake, the sizzling batter bubbling perfectly. "You know flattery won't get you anywhere, Dave. In case you've missed it, you've already knocked me up."

"I did do that, didn't I?" Dave chuckled, his palm rubbing against the baby bump as he added, voice aimed toward her stomach, "And how's my baby? Her mama bounced out of bed way too early for me to give either one of you a proper wake up call."

"Both mama and baby are just fine, Dave," Lizzie assured him, handing him a loaded plate as she motioned toward the already full table. "Put that near Mama's seat. She and Daddy'll be on in soon."

Doing as he was told, Dave looked around the empty kitchen as he moved toward the bubbling coffee pot. "Speaking of your parents, it's eight thirty, Lizzie. They're usually already down by now and on their second cup of coffee."

Grinning over her shoulder, Lizzie shook her bouncing curls as she answered, fingers to her lips, "I think Mama and Daddy are not exactly on speaking terms this morning. It appears that Daddy's a bit perturbed at the leash he's suddenly found himself on, and Mama ain't intendin' to give him any slack."

Quirking an eyebrow, Dave asked warily, "Do I wanna know?"

"Seems Tommy and Ray tried to help daddy stage his jailbreak this mornin' a'fore the sun was even up. Somethin' about moving the cattle to the back pasture. Daddy thought he'd go along for the trip and Mama...well, she thought otherwise."

"The cardiologist said no working the farm for at least a month, Lizzie," Dave said carefully, well aware of the running feud that the elder Winsteads had been waging over the past week.

"I know that. You know that. Mama knows that. The only one hard of hearin' is Daddy. Said he didn't 'specially think sittin' in a pickup qualified as work. At any rate, I heard Mama use words this mornin' on Daddy...well...let me just show you," Lizzie muttered, standing on tip toes snatching the swear jar off the top of the refrigerator.

Peering inside, Dave let out a low whistle. "Mama was pissed," he said in a low voice.

Sighing heavily, Lizzie shook the jar at him, the bills fluttering. "You know what to do, Dave."

Matching her sigh, Dave poured a full cup of coffee, knowing it would probably be the first of many, many needed throughout this day. Taking a healthy sip, he muttered, "Why is it that I'm the one that's been delegated to trying to explain reason to your father, Elizabeth?"

"Probably because you're the only one he ever even pretends to listen to anymore," Lizzie replied as she stood on tiptoes again, stretching to place the crock back on its high perch. Mischievously, she added with a wide grin, "Tommy says it's 'cause you and Daddy are from the same generation."

"Is that your way of saying I'm old?" Dave growled around his coffee mug, leaning against the counter.

Arching a reddish eyebrow, Lizzie shrugged as she said, innocently, "Now would I do that?"

"Hell, yes, you would. In a heartbeat," Dave answered, his body tightening automatically at the way she sashayed across the kitchen, the sunlight beaming off her content face. Damn, he didn't know how it was possible, but he'd swear she'd become even more beautiful.

"Words, words," Lizzie chastised, waving a spatula toward the jar she had just returned to its resting place.

"Yes, dear," he intoned, straightening his shoulders as he heard stomping footsteps on the porch.

Glancing over her shoulder as her two brothers barreled noisily through the back door, Lizzie ordered immediately, "Boots! I ain't havin' ya'll tracking all that mud over Mama's clean floors, you hear me?"

Rolling his eyes as he leaned against the doorjam, toeing off his barely dirty shoes, Ray muttered under his breath, "Damn, I think that pregnancy's gone to her head. Those hormones kickin' in early, ain't they?"

Glaring at the two shoeless men making their way towards the kitchen table, Dave glared at them. "All right, Dumb and Dumber, why in the hell would you agree to Daddy's scheme this morning?"

"Tattle tale," Tommy said with a frown at Lizzie as she busily slid a steaming plateful of biscuits on the table.

"I wasn't the one tryin' to aide and abet a heart patient, Tommy," Lizzie said, returning his frown.

"Hell, Dave, you know Daddy. He had his mind more'n made up by the time I'd got to the kitchen this mornin' HE was waiting on me. Told me I was late," Ray grumbled, plopping down in his assigned seat and tucking his napkin into his shirt collar.

"Yeah, then mama showed up and boxed all our ears," Tommy shuddered.

"You had it coming," Dave growled, slapping the back of the younger man's head. "You heard those doctors just like we all did. If you needed help, why the hell didn't you just wake me up?"

"We didn't need anybody's help," Ray groaned. "Least of all, Daddy's."

"Cain't nobody tell him, though," Tommy agreed, shifting his head out of Dave's reach as he grabbed two cathead biscuits. "Prickly as a cussed mama bear with cubs this morning."

"Seriously, Dave," Ray added, pouring a glass of orange juice as he slid the pitcher toward his brother. "We had all the big work done other'n shifting the final herd to the back pasture. Wouldn't have taken us but half an hour, and that's only if we had a heifer go rogue. Didn't need him atall."

"I'm afraid that's the problem," Dave sighed resignedly, shaking his head as he took a plate of crispy bacon from his wife's tiny hands. Plopping the platter on the table, he added, "Your father's beginning to feel unneeded. Seeing the rest of us doing all the work is probably making him think he's not necessary anymore."

"Well, he ain't," Tommy said dumbly, draining half his glass of juice in one swallow. "Doin' just fine without him."

"Way to go, dumbass," Ray muttered, stomping hard on his brother's stockinged foot as his sister threw a glare in their direction.

"Hey!" Tommy yelped, pulling his damaged toes out of range as he glanced warily around the table. "What'da say? Ain't no secret that we're getting along as fine as frog hair with things the way they are. What with the Simpson boys workin' part time after school, farm's running better'n a top."

"Don't you dare let Daddy hear that, you understand me, Tommy Joe Winstead?" Lizzie ordered, whacking his shoulder with her dishtowel as she dropped a jar of jam onto the solid wood table. The jar wobbling into place, she added, threateningly, "That'll make his blood pressure hit the roof as sure as God made little green apples!"


	151. Chapter 151

_**Author's Note: Hello fellow readers and authors!**_

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_**Thanks to everyone reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting our stories! We think you're all awesome! And now…on to our story!**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-One**

"Okay, okay," Dave raised both hands, dropping them on his wife's stiff shoulders as he propelled her away from her away from her brother, easing her down into the seat at the other end of the table. "I think Tommy's just stating that we've learned how to adjust and streamline a few things over the past few weeks. I'll talk to Daddy this morning, Lizzie, and smooth things over." Dropping into the chair beside her, he added, thoughtfully, "I could actually use his help in understanding those latest papers from the Farm Bureau. He's the only one that can decipher all of those acronyms and initials."

"I can take care of my own papers, blast it!" James blustered feebly from the doorway, slowly making his way toward his chair at the head of the table.

"Would you stop this foolishness?" Anne hissed from behind him, her normally youthful-looking face pinched tightly in displeasure. "Nobody said you couldn't do it, James. Doctors said you shouldn't. At least for a spell."

"Woman, if you don't stop that yammerin in my ear, I'll..."

"You'll what?" Anne snapped. "You're still weak as a kitten because you won't do what the Good Lord knows you should!"

"And we're off to the races," Ray groaned, slamming his hand against his forehead.

Snatching another biscuit, Tommy shook his head. "Think I'll take my breakfast to go," he murmured, bending to kiss his sister's cheek before quickly grabbing his boots and escaping through the back door.

"Chicken," Ray called after him, watching through the window as his brother hopped, stocking footed and all, off the back porch and ran on his tiptoes toward the barn.

"Okay, that's enough, children," Anne declared tiredly, easing down into the seat beside her son-in-law, smiling her gratitude as he poured her a glass of juice. Looking around the full table, she mumbled, "Lizzie, dear, you didn't need to go to all this trouble. I would've started breakfast myself but…."

"Mama, wasn't a problem whatsoever," Lizzie assured the older woman, reaching across the table to pat her hand. "Didn't take but a minute or so to whip out everything."

"Don't feel so good to have a whippersnapper take over your place does it, Annie?" James growled sullenly, morosely picking apart one of Lizzie's fluffy biscuits.

"That's not what I said at all, you addlepated fool," Anne snapped back, throwing an exhausted look of annoyance at her recovering husband. "You're puttin' words into all our mouths instead of listenin' to what's a-comin' out of your own." Drawing in a deep breath, she smiled sweetly at her daughter as she reached for the platter of bacon. "Lizzie, I couldn't have done better myself. And I'm sure your father appreciates this wonderful meal also, even though he's actin' like a sulled-up baby at the moment."

"Annie, the good Lord gave me a tongue. If I wanted to say somethin' to my girl, I would!" James growled, stiffening in his chair.

"Well, why don't you try usin' that voice that God gave you to do somethin' other than complain. I know everybody at this table would bow their head in thanks to the Almighty for that, James!" Anne snapped, throwing her napkin on the table as she scooted her chair back, angrily blinking back tears as she stomped up the stairs. And a moment later, everyone remaining heard the distant slamming of a bathroom door.

Flushing as he felt the eyes of his children on him, James huffed, "Wound up tighter than a tick since this mess began, she's been."

"Wonder why that is, Daddy?" Lizzie frowned. Sighing, Lizzie, too, pushed her seat back. Slapping Ray's arm she muttered, "Come on, Ray. Let's go fetch the eggs in from the henhouse."

Grabbing a biscuit from the center of the table, Ray nodded. "Right behind you, Sissy," he murmured, not looking at his father as he rose.

"Boy, you need to eat," James said gruffly, motioning toward the full table.. "You both do."

"I think we lost our appetite, Daddy," Lizzie said quietly, following Ray out the back door, the screen door slamming shut behind them.

"Well," James sighed, looking down the table at his son-in-law. "I know you're sittin' up there stewin' on somethin'. Might as well out with it."

Taking a sip of his coffee, Dave slowly placed the mug back on the placemat next to his plate. His wife and mother-in-law had trained him well over the past few weeks, their stern glares obvious even in their absence. Looking at his father-in-law, he murmured, "Sure you don't want to grab something to eat before we start talking?"

Waving a hand over the entire table, James grumbled darkly as he took a sip of his orange juice, "Ain't none of this on that so-called approved list Annie keeps shovin' underneath my nose." Angrily nudging the small bowl sitting in the middle of his plate, he snorted, "They got me on gruel. Hell, the pigs eat better'n this crap."

"And the pigs didn't just have a heart attack and heart surgery," Rossi replied calmly, leaning back in his chair, preparing for the showdown that had been in the making for days. "And they don't have a loving family concerned about a possible reoccurrence."

Banging a fist on the table, the china rattling in protest, James rolled his eyes as he objected, "Taint been love I've been feeling. Feels more like a prison rather'n a home."

"You done?" Rossi asked, waiting for a second. Seeing the man's terse nod, he sighed as he measured his next words. Pissing off Lizzie's daddy wouldn't exactly win him any points with his wife. Or her mother. "Seriously, Daddy, how'd you expect them to act? I was there. I saw their faces. Your family was worried. They're still worried. And based on how you've been acting, they have every right to be worried."

"Pshaw!" James snarled. "Weren't nothin' but a bit of a bad spell. Passed on over like a southern storm," he muttered, waving a hand.

"Way I hear it," Dave replied, settling back in the straight backed wooden chair, "The storms here in Georgia spring up out of the clear blue sky. Much like those heart problems of yours."

Pursing his lips, James stirred the so-called gruel in front of him, tapping the spoon against the side of the bowl. "Weren't nothin' for ev'rybody to go up at arms about," he muttered.

"Your son had to pump your chest to keep you alive, Daddy," Dave growled. "You quit breathing and your heart stopped. WHILE your boys watched. Trust me, it was definitely something. At least to all of us. Now, you about ready to quit acting like a jackass?" Dave asked evenly.

Sighing heavily, James nodded toward the drawer under the sink. "Find me my screwdriver, Boy," he said quietly. "I gotta go pry off a door."

"That's what I thought you'd say," Dave muttered, rising to do his father-in-law's bidding.


	152. Chapter 152

**Author's Note: Hello, readers! Just a couple of notes today -**

**Letters containing the assignments for our first-ever Criminal Minds Christmas Gift Fic Exchange have been released. Please, if you signed up, check your mail, guys - they're there! We can't wait to read the fabulous stories this challenge generates! You have until December 25 to post your stories!**

**Also, friends, don't forget to vote in "The Criminal Minds Profiler's Choice Awards" headquartered at the forum as well (it can also be reached thru my profile page or tonnie2001969 profile page if you choose). We've had a phenomenal response so far, but we want each one of you to be heard thru your vote. Voting ends on November 30th and details can be found at the forum.**

**New interviews are posted on "Chit Chat" with our very talented co-authors: TheSecretCity, montez, jeffandjimmieschick, and Spark Shark. Check them as well as several of our other nominees out. We'll be adding more as we draw closer to the end of the awards!**

**Thanks to everyone that continues to read, review alert and favorite...we truly appreciate each one of you!**

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Two**

Watching Lizzie's father stride determinedly out of the sunny kitchen, Dave turned toward the back door, intent on finding his wife and her brothers. His hand almost on the door knob, he stepped back just in time as the door flew open, Lizzie's questioning face poking inside.

"So is it safe to come in yet?" she asked hopefully, glancing over Dave's shoulder at the empty table, her eyes widening as she realized her father was already gone.

Pulling open the door and grabbing her hand, Dave tugged her inside as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "All the natives are quiet now."

Squeezing Dave's hand in return, Lizzie muttered, "Thank goodness." Turning back toward the door, she pushed open the screen as she yelled, loudly, "Come on in, boys, 'fore the food gets any colder'n it already is."

Wincing as he pressed a hand to his ear, Dave mumbled, "Seriously, honey, couldn't you just have rung the bell? Did you have to wake the dead?"

Shrugging as she slipped past him, settling into her seat, she said nonchalantly, "Had to make sure they heard me. Fraidy cats wouldn't come up on the porch 'til they were a-certain you'd done something about Daddy. Sent me in as a spy."

"I'll have to remember to thank them for their willingness to sacrifice my wife," Dave snorted, grabbing the coffee pot before he returned to his seat.

Slathering the insides of a biscuit with fresh cream butter, Lizzie rolled her eyes at her husband's comment. "Figured Daddy wouldn't tear into me like he's been doin' to them, seein' as how I'm in what Tommy calls a delicate condition."

"Babe, I've seen you in action. There's nothing delicate about you," Dave snorted, earning himself a heel against his shin. "Ouch!" he said, wincing as hot coffee splashed over his hand.

"That stuff's turning out to be dangerous to your health," Lizzie said, eyes glittering as she speared a pancake. "I'd watch those nervous hands of yours. Think that caffeine's goin' to your head."

"And your foot going into my leg was just coincidence," Dave snorted, carefully placing the coffee pot out of her reach.

"Love tap," Lizzie shrugged, turning just as the screen door swung open.

"You sure he's gone, LizzieBear?" Tommy hissed from the doorway, his eyes darting around in much the same way his sister's had done just minutes earlier.

"Yes, Tommy. Now shut the door! You're lettin' in flies," Lizzie sighed.

Glancing over his shoulder, Dave barely suppressed a chuckle as Tommy led a small army into the house.

"Granddaddy! Aunt Myrtle! Where have ya'll been hidin'?" Lizzie asked in confusion, brows furrowed.

"Outside on the porch," Myrtle sighed, dropping heavily into a chair. "You're mama's shrieks ran me out the house afore the sun even got settled in the sky this mornin'."

"Can't eat with a bunch of hollerin'," Granddaddy complained, scooting in behind her. "Indigestion, you know," he said with a nod to Dave. "Ain't heard Annie holler like that since Lizzie was born."

"Auntie, why are you carryin' around one of Mama's pillows?" Lizzie asked, her eyebrows furrowing together as she noticed the large flowered print pillow firmly clutched in her crazy aunt's arms.

"Twixt your mama's rants and Myrvin's mutterin', didn't catch a wink of sleep after the rooster crowed," Myrtle muttered, reaching for the plate of biscuits while still maintaining her grip on the cushion.

"Took up all the swing, she did," Granddaddy muttered, glaring accusingly as he scooted into his seat, motioning for his youngest grandson to pass the bacon. "Made me catch forty winks in one of those foldin' chairs your mama keeps on the back porch. Gonna have a permanent crick in my spine cause her little green man was sleepin' like a log on the big chair.

Her eyes widening as she stared at her two elderly relatives, Lizzie murmured, "This is turning out to be quite the morning. Anybody else floatin' around out there I should know about?"

"Don't ask, babe," Dave warned softly, barely controlling the grin that threatened to escape, hiding behind his coffee mug as he patted his wife's hand.

A loud yell floated down the staircase just then, causing all eyes to turn quickly toward the entryway.

Swallowing as he reached for his third biscuit of the morning, Ray muttered, "Guess Daddy got the door off, huh?"

"Damn door spends more time propped in the hallway than it does on those hinges," Tommy agreed, pouring half the bowl of gravy over everything on his plate.

"And one day you'll be prying it off its hinges for your own woman, so shut your trap," Dave ordered, glaring at Tommy as he felt his wife stiffen beside his side.

"All I said to LizzieBear yesterday was that it looked like she was gonna have to go up a dress size," Tommy said defensively, holding up one hand. "I did NOT call her fat!"

"Did, too!" Lizzie retorted hotly, cheeks beginning to flush again as she remembered the conversation with her brother.

Smacking the back of his brother's head, Ray grumbled around his biscuit, "Will you please shut up, you loghead! I don't wanna hafta hightail it out of here again. I'm hungry!"

"Sorry, Lizzie," Tommy muttered down the table to his little sister, unwilling to meet either his sister's or his brother-in-law's eyes.

"You better be," Lizzie replied tightly, moving her biscuit from her plate back to the platter as she reached for her juice.

"He is, babe," Dave assured her, frowning as he immediately picked up the abandoned piece of bread and plopped it firmly in front of his wife. Shaking his head as he saw her start to object, he said firmly, "Don't even try, Elizabeth. You've got to eat. You and the baby both need more than you've been keeping down."

"Quit actin' like a caveman, Dave," Lizzie smacked at his hand, the tines of her fork, making a perfect connection with his skin. "I'm capable of choosin' my own food, thank you very much. I don't need all ya'll watchin' every forkful that goes down my throat!"

"Best be takin' advantage of it now, girlie," Myrtie said knowingly, her light blue eyes peering across the table. "Won't be time to take a bite after that little one slips on out. Why, I remember the way your mama barely ate enough to keep a bird alive after you 'peared."

A new voice came from the hallway door then. "That had more to do with the fact I was chasin' after two raspcallions more'n havin' a newborn in the house," Annie answered her sister, sliding into the kitchen with her husband following closely behind.

Dropping his hand to his wife's neck, Dave nodded at her plate again. "Eat, babe," he urged. "We've gotta be at the hospital in an hour or so."

"I ain't got no appointments today, do I?" James shuddered, picking up his decaffeinated coffee and taking a sip. "Ain't the vampires stolen enough blood for one week, Annie?" he groaned, reaching for his wife's hand.

"Taint for you, James," Annie smiled as she settled into her seat. "This one's for our girl," she smiled, nodding at Lizzie. "They've gotta go check on the baby," she said, patting his hand.

"So, the vampires want your blood then, LizzieBear," James said with a relieved grin.

"Not today, Daddy," Lizzie shook her head. "Today, we get to see the baby. And not a second too soon. This one," she remarked, jerking her head toward her husband, "is drivin' me out of my mind."

"Cain't blame a man for wantin' to see his child," Ray replied around a spoonful of grits.

"In my day, we didn't see the babe til she popped out," Granddaddy grimaced. "Don't seem natural if'n you ask me."

"Nobody did, Daddy," James muttered, shaking his head toward the older man.

"Please, no talkin' 'bout what's goin' on inside Lizzie's innards at the breakfast table," Tommy groaned around his bacon filled biscuit.

"It's called the miracle of life, Tommy Joe," Lizzie snapped out, pressing a hand to her expanding stomach. "And it's beautiful, I'll have you know!"

Patting his wife's hand, Dave nodded once at his Ray's inquiring look, gratified by Lizzie's giggle as her older brother's hand made contact once again with the back of her younger brother's head.

"Hell's bells," Tommy yelped, glaring at his brother. "What the hell was that for?"

"Ten dollars," Lizzie and her mother called out in unison as James stood up to reach on top of the refrigerator for the ever-present collection tin.

Grinning as her brother grumbled while dutifully dropping bills into the container, Lizzie turned to Dave as she drained her juice glass. "Okay, I think I'm done. I want to change clothes before we go, so give me a few minutes and we'll be ready to pop on to the doctor's office."

And as Dave watched his wife leave the room, he couldn't help the grin settling on his lips. He had his wife…and a baby on the way. He had gained a new family, and a new lease on life along the way.

Now, if he could just keep everyone happy, all would be wonderful in his world.


	153. Chapter 153

_**Author's Note: Hello, wonderful readers. I hope everyone in the good ole US of A remembered to adjust their clocks for daylight savings time. (I didn't). At any rate, we have just a few announcements for everyone today.**_

_**First, please remember to try and spare a few moments over the upcoming three weeks and VOTE for your favorite authors and stories in the "Profiler's Choice Awards" at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. You have through the end of November 30, 2010 to let your vote be heard and we want to hear from each one of you. If you don't know much about forums, links can be found through either my profile (ilovetvalot) or my awesome co-author (tonnie2001969). Remember, anyone that wants to help advertise the awards has our unending gratitude and there is also a short blurb you can use on our profile pages.**_

_**Second, we also have a new fortune cookie prompt for you at the forum compliments of our "Fortune Cookie Friday post (Sorry, we forgot to advertise it yesterday). And we also have great new interviews with several of our nominees. Today, we are "getting to know" the following: -Sweetheart.X, LostinOblivion, MissAmieB, nebula2 and JazziePerson. More interviews are coming soon!**_

_**Many thanks to everyone still reading these stories. We really appreciate you. Now, on with the show!**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Three**

Smiling as he stared down at the grainy black and white picture in his hand, Dave couldn't help but still feel completely amazed at the recent turn of events. In one short year, he had gained a wife, a new family, and, by the looks of this decidedly beautiful photograph, a soon-to-be daughter. Karma was finally playing on his side for once.

Nudging her husband as they walked into the deserted waiting room, Lizzie grinned as she asked, "You got it memorized yet, Dave? It's not gonna magically poof away if you take your eyes off it, you know."

Tightening his arm around her waist as he turned to face her, he shook his head as he matched her grin. "Hey, you can't blame me for being a doting father. And I seem to remember somebody making the doctor check for ten fingers and ten toes more than once while we were in there. Wonder who THAT was?"

Shrugging as she patted a hand against her growing tummy, Lizzie said breezily, "That's a mother's prerogative. At least I wasn't aggravatin' the doctor for a guaranteed delivery date!"

Looking unrepentant, Dave merely shrugged as he led her down the long hallway, nodding as they passed a group of hospital volunteers. "Not gonna apologize again, honey. Every piece of ammunition I can get will only help keep both of you safe when that time comes."

"But Dave," Lizzie groaned, stopping dead center in the middle of the tiled hallway, forcing him to stop with her, "That doesn't mean you can keep threatening the poor man! It's our fault that we're not exactly sure when we made this little one, not his!"

Tugging gently on her shoulders, Dave grinned down at her blushing face as he whispered in her ear, "That's because we were a little busy during that time, babe. I seem to remember that time on the back deck at Little Creek when you…"

Slapping her hand over his mouth, Lizzie felt her cheeks growing redder as she hissed, "I swannee, if you finish that sentence, you'll be bunkin' with Granddaddy for the rest of the time we're in Piermont!"

Kissing her fingers as he pulled her hand away from his mouth, Dave chuckled as he propelled them down the hallway once again. "No, thank you. That man snores worse than your brothers combined. And I have no intention of leaving you alone in our bed, Elizabeth."

"Then you best be keepin' that dirty mind of yours to yourself while we're in public," Lizzie warned, squeezing his hand.

"Yes, ma'am," Dave answered dutifully, grinning down at her beautifully flushed face. But his grin turned to a frown as they reached the front doors to the hospital, the glass entrance giving them a perfect view outside.

Jerking her shoulders back as she felt him guiding her to the side, Lizzie asked, eyes widening, "Dave? What in the name of heavens are you doing?"

Easing her down into one of the vinyl waiting room chairs, Dave shook his head as he motioned toward the plate glass window. "In case you've missed it, Elizabeth, it's starting to rain. And by the looks of those clouds, it's not going to let up soon."

"Then I think that would mean we needed to get out while the gettin' was good," Lizzie replied as she tried to stand back up, narrowing her eyes at her husband's stubborn expression.

"Don't even try, woman." Dave shook his head as he once again pushed her back down against the seat. "I'm not going to risk you falling in a slick parking lot. I'll pull the truck up underneath the drive through and come back in to get you."

"I'm not an invalid, you know," Lizzie objected, her green eyes flashing as she swatted at her husband's controlling hand. "I'm more than capable of walking a few steps in a bit of rain. It's not like I'm gonna melt or turn into a frog or something."

Seeing the looks they were garnering from a geriatric couple in the corner, Dave took a deep breath as he squatted in front of his irate wife. "Humor me, okay, Lizzie? We just got an excellent report from the doctor on both you and the baby, and I don't want to tempt fate or risk any injuries right now. It would make me feel a lot better to know that you both are safe and sound."

Pursing her lips as she listened to the plea in her husband's deep voice, Lizzie finally nodded as she muttered, "But don't take this to mean you're gonna get your way all the time, you hear me? I'm only lettin' you win this one 'cause I know you'll make us wait until the rain stops all together otherwise!"

"Whatever it takes, babe," Dave grinned, pressing a quick kiss to her delectable pouting lip before he strode out the sliding glass doors.

Slumping back into the uncomfortable chair, Lizzie sighed as she watched her husband move purposefully out into the wet outdoors, his shoulders hunched against the elements. Shaking her head at his obstinate determination, she felt herself start to grin as she remembered where they had ended up parking that morning. Dave had griped the whole time they were in the small parking lot, the only space available located in the corner fartherest away from the main entrance.

Grabbing the nearest magazine to keep herself occupied while her husband slogged to their vehicle, Lizzie thumbed through the dog-eared pages as she glanced disinterestedly at the various articles on the latest celebrities and their failing marriages. Thankfully, her marriage seemed more solid than ever, she told herself, mentally crossing her fingers so as not to jinx the thought. Their rocky period appeared to be over with, and she had no reason to doubt Dave's loyalty or his devotion. Not any more.

Watching as the older couple in the corner followed a nurse down the hallway, Lizzie glanced up at the windows, seeing no sign of her missing husband. Dropping a hand to her stomach as she felt her daughter swim against her side, she patted against her shirt as she whispered, smiling, "Hold on for a bit, baby. Daddy's gone to get the truck 'cause he thinks Mama's gonna break at the first stiff wind. Silly Daddy, isn't he?"

"Well, well, well," came a snide voice from a few feet behind her, the deep tone filled with bitterness. "If I hadn't seen it myself, I'd never a-believed my Daddy's words. Got yourself knocked up after all, didn't you, you slut?"

Feeling her throat tighten at the first word, Lizzie swallowed against the constriction as she felt the magazine tumble from her slack fingers. Pulling quickly up out of the seat, Lizzie stood on shaking legs as she came face to face with the man that had taken her very virtue and almost taken her life.


	154. Chapter 154

_**Author's Note: Hello, wonderful readers. At any rate, we have just a few announcements for everyone today.**_

_**IMPORTANT: WE HAVE 15 DAYS LEFT TO VOTE! LET'S ALL GET MOTIVATED!**_

_**First, please remember to try and spare a few moments over the upcoming three weeks and VOTE for your favorite authors and stories in the "Profiler's Choice Awards" at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. You have through the end of November 30, 2010 to let your vote be heard and we want to hear from each one of you. If you don't know much about forums, links can be found through either my profile (ilovetvalot) or my awesome co-author (tonnie2001969). Remember, anyone that wants to help advertise the awards has our unending gratitude and there is also a short blurb you can use on our profile pages.**_

_**Thank you to everyone taking the time to vote and avertise for us. We appreciate each and every one of you. The responses are starting to roll in and we have a tight race running in several categories. Let your opinion be heard.**_

_**Second, we also have great new interviews with several of our nominees. Today, we are "getting to know" the following: b-mystique, Nagen66, Monkeywand, and Hidge. More interviews are coming soon!**_

_**Many thanks to everyone still reading these stories. We really appreciate you. Now, on with the show!**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Four**

"What…what are you doing here?" Lizzie Rossi half-whispered, her heart suddenly beating a hundred miles a minute at the very sight of him. This man…this man that had so violently stolen part of her life. The man that had made her believe that she could never be whole again, her very soul shattered into irreparable pieces. And now, he was back again, obviously intent on destroying her once again. "You're…you're supposed to be in prison!"

"Thanks to your old man, stayed there too long," William Bartane Junior spat out, his eyes leering dangerously as he stalked toward her, his footsteps heavy in the otherwise empty room. "Served my time and then some, thanks to you, bitch."

"I ..I ..I don't know what you're talking about," Lizzie stammered out, her mind trying to fight the vortex of fear that was attempting to claim her once again, the mere sight of her assailant dragging her back into its icy grip. Her eyes flicked hopefully toward the glass door, her mind attempting to telepathically summon her husband, begging for his very presence. But he wasn't there. No one was there. She was all alone…with her worst nightmare.

"Don't play dumb with me, you frickin' tease," Bartane snarled, towering over her tiny frame as he came within inches of her, his fists balled at his side. "Shoulda took you out when I had the chance."

Stepping backwards, her feet automatically trying to move out of his reach, to get away from his vile presence, Lizzie felt his hand clamp down viciously on her arm as he jerked her against him. "Don't you be runnin' away from me when I'm talkin', bitch," Bartane growled, his eyes darkening viciously as he tightened his grip painfully around her thin arm. "Always were too uppity, weren't you? Never did know your place. 'Pears you didn't learn that lesson last time 'round, now did you?"

"Please," Lizzie gasped, desperately trying to wrench her arm from his bruising grip as he pulled her down a dimly lit hallway, dropping her purse as he twisted painfully at her arm, "Don't, Billy!"

"Shut up! You and I are just gonna have a friendly conversation and catch up on old times, Lizzie," he said, his malicious smile gleaming in his twisted face.

"Help!" Lizzie screamed, her memory replaying scenes from that horrible night almost two years ago as she begged for help, her mind trying to find any way to stop him in any way she could. "Somebody help!" she shrieked, as one of his hand buried viciously in her hair, pulling it tight and drawing her breath from her body.

"Shut up!" he hissed, quickly pulling a pocket knife from his pocket and flipping it open, pressing it against her rounded stomach with enough force to quieten her screams. "Unless you'd like to meet your baby a little sooner than you expected," he whispered harshly against her ear, propelling her into a vacant room.

Kicking the door closed behind them, Billy Bartane shoved her violently into a wall, pulling a shocked gasp from her lips as he cupped one hand around her throat, holding the knife to her cheek with his other. "So, Lizzie," he smiled, sliding the tip of his knife along her jaw, the blade slipping against her tight skin, "Long time, no see, honey. Miss me?"

"Let me go," Lizzie begged brokenly, her voice barely a whisper as his fingers squeezed around her neck and she clawed at his punishing hand. "Please, Billy."

"Ah, honey, I remember you beggin' pretty like that once before," Billy laughed huskily against her ear, grinding his body into hers as he sniffed her hair. "Still smell as pretty as you did then, too."

Tears sliding down her cheeks as she tried to struggle against him, Lizzie winced and squeezed her eyes shut as she felt one hand slipping down her body to painfully pinch a swollen breast. God, this wasn't happening. Not again. Not now. Her mind seemed to shut down at that moment, her thoughts coming in jumbles that wouldn't make sense, a cacophony of sounds and pictures from her past consuming her. All she could remember was the pain..the horror...the horror this man had caused her. "Billy, don't!" she begged hoarsely as the strong smell of whiskey teased her nostril, nauseating her even more.

"Yeah, you said that then, too," Billy snarled against her cheek, dropping his head to bite her neck. "Think I'm gonna listen any better now than I did then?" he laughed harshly.

"Don't do this," Lizzie begged as the he moved the knife against her stomach, violently grasping the hem of her skirt and jerking it upward. "Please, I'm having a baby. Don't do this!" she pleaded, shaking her head violently.

"Poor little baby. Slut for a mama. Old man for a daddy. Maybe I can do the kid a favor and end its sufferin' afore it begins," Billy hissed against her ear.

Her mind seemed to clear for that exact moment, thoughts of losing her baby propelling her better senses forward. She had fought too hard to reach this point, and her baby was the most important thing in her life. She couldn't lose her now…the baby was helpless..she was the only person who could protect her. Hands finally sliding between them, Lizzie relaxed against her attacker...just as Emily and JJ had shown her months ago...then she shoved heavily, lurching from his grip.

"Bitch!" Billy growled, catching the back of Lizzie's shirt and slamming her back into the wall. Backhanding her viciously, he sneered as he heard her moan, her head hitting the wall with a crack as she raked her nails down his cheek in one last bid to defend herself. "You just didn't learn, did you?" he whispered harshly.

His fist connecting with her cheek was the last thing she remembered as the edges of her vision dimmed. And the prayer that her husband would find her before it was too late for both of them.


	155. Chapter 155

**Author's Note: My co-author and I would like to announce that our core stories (Sunday and Monday weekly publications) will be on hiatus for the weekend after Thanksgiving (an American Holiday on November 25, 2010). Due to familial obligations, we do believe there will be a week break on those ongoing stories. We will continue to publish one-shots and shorter stories through the holiday week.**

**Also, we're drawing near the close of our first annual Criminal Minds Profiler's Choice Awards. WE CURRENTLY HAVE ****NINE**** DAYS LEFT TO VOTE FOR OUR FAVORITE AUTHORS AND STORIES. Please remember to try and spare a few moments over the upcoming days and ****VOTE**** for your favorite authors and stories in the "Profiler's Choice Awards" at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. You have through the end of November 30, 2010 to let your voice and vote be heard, and we want to hear from each one of you. If you don't know much about forums, links can be found through either my profile (ilovetvalot) or my awesome co-author (tonnie2001969). Remember, anyone that wants to help advertise the awards has our unending gratitude and there is also a short blurb you can use on our profile pages.**

**We also want to take a moment and remind all those participants that have signed up for the Criminal Minds Christmas Fic Gift Exchange that we have just over a month to complete our gifts and publish them for our recipients. If anyone has any questions please contact us via private message.**

**And finally, we'd like to take this opportunity to thank everyone for their continued support of our stories. We truly appreciate each review, favorite, alert and private message. It means a lot to us. Please let us continue to hear from each of you!**

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifty Five**

Stepping back inside the small vestibule of the hospital, Dave tapped the umbrella against the rubber mat as he shook off the last few drops of rain. Damn Southern weather, he thought with a shake of his head. His wife had been warning him about these rapid shifts in weather, but he'd never truly believed her. That was, until today.

With one last tap, he moved into the small waiting room, his eyes immediately shifting to the cluster of chairs in the corner, expecting to see his wife's cascading red curls. But instead, he found an empty chair. A completely empty chair. His eyes narrowing as he felt a sudden chill crawl down his spine, he had a distinct feeling that it had nothing to do with the weather.

Hearing voices behind him, Rossi turned quickly as he saw two white-clad nurses moving in his direction. The older of the two, which he was almost certain he had met before, looking confused around the small room as she asked him, sternly, "Young man, was that you we heard a-yammerin' for help?"

"You heard a call for help? When?" Rossi demanded, his eyes scanning the area for any clue that could lead him to his missing wife.

"It was muffled, but I know I did," the younger nurse declared, her eyes wide as she added, "It sounded like a woman to me."

"It was," Rossi growled, his eyes training in on an abandoned purse dropped haphazardly on the floor. Stomping toward it, he grabbed it up, knowing immediately it was his wife's, having seen it many times before. He barked out over his shoulder as he started moving frantically toward the hallway, "Call the police. Tell them it's an emergency. Elizabeth Winstead Rossi is missing."

Rushing down the corridor, Dave began calling her name, his voice growing more angry and agitated with every passing second as his heart clenched. "Elizabeth! Elizabeth, answer me, damn it!"

_**/**/**_

Cracking one eyelid as she laid against the cool linoleum floor, Lizzie heard him through what sounded like a hollow tunnel...heard the panicked, frantic fear coloring his tone. And she wanted to call out to him. More than anything, she did. If only she could swallow enough air. Pain radiated down her side and her throat felt swollen and burned as she fought to remain conscious.

Dropping a hand to cradle her baby protectively, she tried to look around the room. Why couldn't she get her eyes open? Listening closely, she didn't hear anything beyond the muffled shouts of her name. And they still sounded so far away. Moaning slightly as she heard something hit the wall, she braced for the pain of another crashing fist, whimpering faintly as she buried her head against her arm and waited for another hard blow to land. Please God, don't let him hit her stomach! Please!

_**/**/**_

Gasping as the door crashed against the wall, Dave saw her first, his heart stopping as he saw her on the floor, her face buried in her arm as she shook. "Elizabeth?" he breathed raggedly, crossing the room quickly as he shouted, "Help! Somebody help!"

"Don't! Please don't!" Lizzie begged almost incoherently, trying to pull her legs up to cushion her stomach. But try as she might, she couldn't fight against the strong hands she felt pushing against her. "No! NO! Don't touch me!"

Cradling her battered face in his hands, a volcano of pure fury rising in his chest at the bruise on her cheek, Dave forced himself to speak softly, his hands slow as she tried to push against him, "Lizzie, it's me. It's Dave. I'm here, honey."

"NOOO!" Lizzie tried to scream as she felt a hand touch her stomach, her greatest fears coming to pass as she fought to protect her baby once again.

"Elizabeth! Open your eyes and look at me, honey! You're safe, I promise!"

Finally hearing the voice she had grown to trust, she screwed up her last bit of energy to open her heavy eyelids. Blinking, she gasped as she tried to grasp for his hands, for anything to let her know he was real. "Dave? Dave?"

"Yeah, honey, it's me," he assured her, the fear in her voice almost rending him apart. Feeling her try to start moving underneath his touch, he ordered gently, "No, Elizabeth. Stay still. Help will be here in just as second." The agent inside knew that he needed to question her, to find answers quickly before her mind started to hide. But the husband…the one that loved her with an unholy passion…knew beyond a shadow of a doubt who had dared to touch his wife. And he would make certain that the bastard paid…this time.

The shadows sliding to the side for a moment as the sharp pain in her side rose to the surface again, she moaned, "The baby! Make them save the baby, Dave!"

Oh, God...the baby, his mind reeled. He hadn't even thought of their child yet, his mind focused solely on his injured wife. "The baby's gonna be fine, Lizzie," he whispered, almost terrified to touch her, her eyes and face beginning to distort with swelling. "Just lie still, babe."

"Tried to get away," Lizzie muttered faintly, shaking her head as tremors began to move through her body. "I tried."

"Shhh," Dave soothed, swallowing his rage to concentrate on Lizzie. "I know you did, honey," he whispered as he heard a commotion behind him.

"Oh, sweet Lord in heaven," Lucille, the nurse that had taken care of them over a month ago, gasped as she stepped over the overturned beside table to crouch beside Elizabeth. "Doc's on his way," she said quickly to Dave as she reached to take Elizabeth's pulse. "You stay still, you hear me, Lizzie?"

Trying to nod, Lizzie struggled to breath. "Hurts," she gasped, grimacing as Lucille quickly unbuttoned her shirt, pressing her stethoscope to her chest.

"I know, honey," Lucille whispered as she watched the older man's face tighten. "We're gonna take care of you now though. No moving though."

"Ms. Lucille!" yelled a man, running into the room. "We got a Code Red down in the office!"

Turning to glare at the security guard over his shoulder, Dave ground out, "Lock your hospital down, damn it! You've got a rapist on the loose."

Glancing up sharply, Lucille's draw dropped. "You think that..."

"Who the fuck else would do this to her?" Dave spat, tightening his fingers around Lizzie's hand as he gently wiped the blood trickling from her mouth with his other fingers. "I swear to God, I'll kill him."


	156. Chapter 156

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Just a reminder, December 25th is right around the corner. Everyone that signed up for the CM Christmas Fic Exchange, please remember your stories. We want this to be a WONDERFUL gift experience for all involved. If you have any questions, feel free to pm either myself (ilovetvalot) or tonnie2001969.**_

_**Finally, if any of you have any idea for issues/activities that you'd like to see "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum tackle in the form of discussion threads and/or challenges, please let us know. We want to bring you all some really fun threads in the New Year!**_

_**As always, thank you to every reader, reviewer, favoriter, and alerter that enjoys our stories. Hearing from each of you means a great deal and we love hearing what you think of our work, especially when you give storyline advice/input. Now, on with our story!**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred Fifty-Six**

Moaning as she felt hands probing her bruised body, Lizzie uttered a quick thank you in her mind as she finally heard the doctor's voice enter the melee.

The next few moments seemed to move in fast forward for Lizzie, voices slamming all around her as she heard her husband yell at the doctor, demanding to know if she and the baby were going to be okay. She could hear the fear and worry coloring his every word, but she couldn't focus on him. Not now. Swallowing hard as she felt new hands press against her stomach, she whispered hoarsely as she tried to move, her shoulder pressing painfully into the harsh floor, "My baby. Is my baby okay?"

"We're going to check on everything, Mrs. Rossi," the doctor's deep voice assured her, meeting her clouded green gaze as he mumbled to the nurse, "Get a trauma room ready with an ultrasound. And get Drury or whoever's the best OB we've got in here stat."

Clutching at Dave's hand, Lizzie moaned as she begged, her wild eyes searching his, "Dave! Make them save the baby! You have to…"

"Mrs. Rossi, we're going to do everything necessary for both you and the baby," the doctor interrupted, assuring her quickly before Dave could respond. "But right now, we need to get you moved."

"You heard the doctor, babe," Rossi said, forcing his voice to remain calm for Lizzie's sake, even though he felt anything but tranquility on the inside. Jerking his head toward the door as he heard another commotion, he let out a ragged sigh as he saw two orderlies wheeling in a gurney.

Feeling Dave start to pull away as the hospital staff started to lift her, Lizzie groaned against the pain as she tightened her fingers around his. "No! Don't leave me, Dave!"

"Honey, I'm right behind you," he soothed, squeezing her hand, pressing his other hand to her forehead

"Mrs. Rossi," the white coated doctor said softly, shining a bright penlight into her swollen eyes, "we need to get you into a CT scan and MRI. As soon as that's done, I promise we're going to bring your husband right back in."

"Ultrasound first," Lizzie rasped, dropping one hand to her belly as she clutched at Dave's hand.

"Ultrasound, first," her doctor nodded, helping move the gurney quickly through the door.

Long frantic minutes later, Lizzie relaxed slightly as she held on to Dave's hand as she tried to focus on the grainy image on the television screen beside her bed.

"She looks good, Lizzie," Dr. Drury's kindly voice assured her as the other doctor adjusted her IV. "No signs of trauma to the baby."

"Oh, thank God," Lizzie whispered, her voice cracking as she struggled to remain coherent above the drugs coursing through her system.

"Honey," the elderly Dr. Drury said gently, well aware of the trauma his patient had experienced, "Dr. Scott here needs to check those bumps on your head now." Looking up into the worried eyes of her husband, he continued, "Agent Rossi, we need to move her to neurology. You can wait here or..."

"No!" Lizzie began to panic, the leads attached to her chest pulling as she tried to jerk upright. "No! Home, now!" she yelled hysterically. "I wanna go home now!" Struggling against all the hands suddenly trying to restrain her, she screamed brokenly, "Stop touchin' me! Stop it!"

"Everybody take a step back from her," Dave demanded in a roar, his jaw clenching as he saw the wild fear in her eyes as she looked frantically around her. Moving to the side of her gurney, Dave ordered, his tone gentle, but firm, "Lizzie, look at me, baby." Watching as she stiffened, then relaxed as she recognized his voice, he saw her turn her head toward him. "I'm here," he said softly, as he watched a tear slip down her cheek. "It's okay, now. Lie back, sweetheart."

Obeying without thought, Lizzie reached for his hand, the IV tubes attached to her vein dragging against the metal safety bars of the bed. "Dave," she whispered, calming slightly as she felt his fingers touching her hair, smoothing it back tenderly.

"Shhh," he said, watching as Dr. Drury nodded at him to keep doing whatever it was he was doing, the heart monitors finally quieting as her heart rate fell into acceptable limits. "I'm right here, baby."

Stepping around Dr. Scott to reach the other side of her bed, Nurse Lucille lightly touched Lizzie's cheek. "Baby girl, it's Ms. Lucille. Listen to me, sugar, we need to get those tests done," she said calmly as Dr. Scott injected another medication into Lizzie's IV line. "And this man of yours' swimmers can't be near that radiation if'n ya'll want any more little ones. But I'm gonna stay with you the whole time, you hear?"

"But the baby..." Lizzie rasped uneasily, barely able to see the steel haired nurse through her swollen eyes.

"Babe's gonna be just fine, darlin. We've got a cover we can use to shield 'er. But we need to move. Now you just give your husband a kiss and we'll bring you back to him quick like a bunny," Lucille assured her steadily.

Turning her face back to Dave, she felt rather than saw him lean down. "Sleepy," she murmured to him as a wave of heaviness washed over her.

"It's the medicine, honey. I'll be right here waiting for you, sweetheart. Right outside the door, okay?" Dave promised, brushing his lips against her cut lips. Seeing her finally completely relax into the thin mattress, he shuddered, feeling Dr. Drury drawing him back.

"The meds knocked her down, Agent Rossi," he said quietly as Lucille tucked Lizzie's hands beneath the thin sheet and they began rolling the gurney out the door. Following the bed mindlessly, Dr. Drury caught his arm again. "You can't go with her, son."

Drawing in a deep breath, the air burning his tight lungs, Dave took one last look toward his wife's quickly disappearing gurney, then turned toward the older doctor. His face hardening as he felt his jaw clench, he demanded, "Tell me truth, Doc. How is she?"

"I didn't hold anything back from Lizzie, so you heard everything," Dr. Drury assured him calmly, his deep set eyes raking over the agitated agent. "More than likely, the worst we're going to see on these tests is some pretty bad bangs and bruises."

"And her head injuries?" Dave probed harshly, his shoulders still thrown back stiffly as he felt worry rise again, his wife's beautiful but swollen face swimming in front of his eyes.

"We'll know soon enough, son, but let's not borrow trouble we don't need," Drury answered. Seeing Dave's mouth start to open, he stopped him quickly as he said, gently, "Her anxiety level is our biggest concern. Hypertension and tachycardia won't be good for either her or the baby. The best way you can help her is by doing what you've already been doing. She responds to you and obviously trusts you." Hearing his name paged over the hospital address system, the doctor sighed as he moved toward the door, "Excuse me, Mr. Rossi. With the attacks, we're all on double duty right now. You can wait for Lizzie in here."

Watching as the doctor stepped out into the hallway, Dave drew in a shaky breath as he dropped down into a empty chair. Staring around the deserted trauma room, he felt himself start to shake, his fingers trembling as he tried to reach for his cell phone. Get it together, Rossi, he snapped at himself, refusing to allow himself to dwell on the fact that he almost lost his wife…again. Now was not the time to allow his emotions to reign, not when Lizzie's rapist was still on the loose.


	157. Chapter 157

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Hold on folks, this is a long note today! First, Tonnie and I would like to announce that signups for Chit Chat on Author's Corner's January Challenge-The Happy New Year's Challenge are open thru December 30, 2010. Simply swing by the forum (you can link to it thru our profile pages) and sign up with the pairing you'd like to see written and three prompts associated with the holiday. On Jan 1, 2011, you'll be assigned a random pairing (not the one you usually write) and three prompts to write by January 30.**_

_**Second, I have a question for my readers. I truly enjoyed last night's CM episode, "What Happens at Home" and the introduction of the character Agent Ashley Seaver. I intend to do some stories with her character incorporated into a pairing and I'd like to know who you guys would like to see me pair her with. I know the obvious choice is Reid, but what about Hotch or Rossi. Anybody that knows my work knows I'm a sucker for older man/younger woman pairings. So, shoot me a pm or review and let me know what you think. I think the world of you guys and value your opinions!**_

_**Just a reminder, December 25th is right around the corner. Everyone that signed up for the CM Christmas Fic Exchange, please remember your stories. We want this to be a WONDERFUL gift experience for all involved. If you have any questions, feel free to pm either myself (ilovetvalot) or tonnie2001969.**_

_**In other forum news, please check out our newest discussion thread, "Serious vs. Light - Which gets the most response?" It is a discussion of serious vs. light stories and the response they get from readers. We also have new interviews with Clarebones and musicxlife4 up for your reading pleasure.**_

_**Also please check out the discussion thread entitled, "The Fine Line Between T and M ratings". There's a great ongoing discussion there, too.**_

_**Finally, if any of you have any idea for issues/activities that you'd like to see "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum tackle in the form of discussion threads and/or challenges, please let us know. We want to bring you all some really fun threads in the New Year!**_

_**As always, thank you to every reader, reviewer, and person that favorites or alerts one of our stories. Hearing from each of you means a great deal to each of us. We truly value your thoughts and opinions. Now, on with our story!**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Seven**

But before he could make the first phone call, David Rossi heard a sharp rap on the door frame, and the frowning face of an older, beefy man in a county sheriff's uniform stepped into the small exam room. Nodding toward Dave, the newcomer said shortly, "Agent Rossi? I'm the sheriff 'round here. Frank Slidell. My office's cross the street, so's I got here as soon as the 911 call came in."

"Sheriff Slidell. I think you know that right now I need to call Lizzie's family and let them know that she's safe," Dave said shortly, trying to balance the rage, concern, and duty battling for prominence in his mind. "Then …"

"Took care of that already," the uniformed man informed him easily, nodding as he pulled off his hat. "Got the lowdown from Lucille as she was walkin' Lizzie to those tests, and figured you'd been a bit too busy to be thinkin' that way. Had one of my boys call Ray. Figured he'd keep his head and keep James from a-loosin' his'n. Figure they'll be stormin' the gates sooner than later."

"I appreciate that," Dave nodded, tucking his phone back into his pocket, grudgingly giving the sheriff credit for making the right call.

"Remember you from the weddin' reception. My wife still says it was the biggest thing 'round these parts since the bicentennial celebration," the sheriff said slowly, easing down into the chair across from Rossi.

"Sheriff, I don't think you're here to talk about my wedding," Rossi ground out, his ability for small talk at an all time low. "I hope you've got a team scouring this hospital for the son of a bitch that attacked my wife. Again."

Shaking his head, the sheriff replied heavily as he reluctantly admitted, "I got a varmint in my town that I can't get rid of without help. Hear tell that group that you and Aaron Hotchner run for the FBI works wonders in that area."

"I'll be honest with you, Sheriff," Rossi snapped, his hand clenching and unclenching as he jerked up out of his seat, pacing erratically. "Doing things by the book is not exactly high on my list right now. I don't' know how you people do things in the South, but in my world…"

"Slow down, son," the aged sheriff interrupted, raising a calloused hand. "We're on the same page. I got a team scourin' this hospital from top to bottom, so if the perpetrator's in the building, we'll get him. And your Lizzie's a special 'un. My wife Lucille's the nurse that's glued to her side as we speak, so we're not gonna let anything happen to her again. But I gotta 'nother girl attacked on my hands now, too. Fourth one in three weeks."

"What the fuck?" Seeing red before his very eyes, David Rossi exploded as he slammed his fist against the thin painted wall. "You mean to tell me you've had three other women brutally attacked and raped and you haven't been able to lock that son of a bitch up yet? And nobody thought it important for Lizzie to know that? What are you waiting for, man? For him to kill one of them?" His face flushing as he glared at the passive man. "God damn it, man, if William Bartane Jr touches my wife again, I'll…

Pushing up out of the metal chair, the small town sheriff tightened his lips as he held up a hand, "Hold your horses, Agent. I'm damn sure it's the Bartane boy. Showed up on his Daddy's doorstep after the second one, warrant in hand to take the little peckerwood into custody. But within two hours, the kid had alibi'd out and the DA made us release him on his own recognizance. Never gotten close enough to an ID after that, considerin' all the victims suddenly withdrew their complaints."

"What the fuck kind of county are you running, Sheriff?"

"You ain't from round these parts, but you look like you seen enough to know how small towns work. Our blasted mayor's got the balls of the DA and the local judge stuffed so deep in his pockets, take a bulldozer to get 'em out. And who or what he don't already own, he finds a way to intimidate or buy 'fore sunup." The sheriff shrugged as he added, a grim smile on his thin lips, "'Cept me. Lucille and Annie Winstead are family, third cousins on their granny's side. Ain't no bucketful of money gonna break family ties."

"Sheriff, let's get one thing clear," Dave muttered darkly, his fist clenched by his side as he drew in a deep breath. "I won't need the permission of any backwater DA or a corrupt judge's warrant. If I find Bartane before you do, then…"

"Son, I'm gonna stop you right there afore you say somethin' you and I both don't want to hear out loud," the old lawman said in a fatherly voice, his hand dropping to rest slightly on his belt. "Tis enough I know your sent'ments. And if it comes to that, I'll lead the posse for you. But I got an inkling that Bartane ain't the only one on my wanted poster."

Giving himself a moment to decipher the older man's cryptic speech, Dave narrowed his eyes as he asked, slowly, "You're saying he's got partners?"

"The boy's dumb," Sheriff Slidell stated bluntly, his words clipped. "Ain't got the sense God gave a goose."

"I don't see how…"

"Two of the last attacks were planned. Too planned in my opinion for a thug like Bartane. Had to have been watching those poor girls with far more patience than that boy's got."

Jerking his head expectantly toward the door as he heard the rattle of rolling wheels and soft voices, Dave let out a deep breath as a two nurses passed by, obviously not returning his wife. Turning back to the sheriff, he forced himself to do what Lizzie would want him to do, which was start thinking like an FBI agent for a moment. Nodding, he said, slowly, "So you've got a unsub on your hand operating in tandem with one or more accomplices. Are you inviting the BAU in, Sheriff?"

"Hell, boy," Frank snorted, rolling his eyes, "Far as I'm concerned, ain't no invitation required. Ya'll can have the keys to the town if can catch those sumbitches."


	158. Chapter 158

_**Author's Note: I want to thank our loyal readers that are sticking with us. I know my postings are sporadic these days and I apologize for it. I've received a couple of negative anonymous reviews over that very issue. Real life, especially mine, is complicated. Going from a loving two parent household to a single parent with a husband fighting in a dangerous war is difficult. I'm not asking for sympathy, just please be patient. I promise, I'm writing as fast as I can, but I want to bring you guys something of quality instead of garbage I wrote on the fly.**_

_**Shortly, we will be handing out the Valentines Gift Fic assignments (sorry we are running behind) and we will be announcing the winners in our Challenge Mini-Awards. Please hang on with us.**_

_**We also have a couple of new discussion threads up for anyone that is interested on "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum.**_

_**As ever, I don't own Criminal Minds.**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred Fifty - Eight**

Nodding sharply as he accepted the man's offer, Rossi growled, "Sheriff, I promised my wife I'd do whatever it takes to make her feel safe and secure. When I get finished with that rat bastard and his family, she won't have to ever doubt that promise again."

"Okay," Slidell nodded, pushing up from the small chair as he hitched his pants, adjusting his gun belt with a grunt. "Your Lizzie, she'll testify?"

"If it comes to that," Dave muttered, turning sharply as he heard a loud voice echoing down the hall. "But I don't intend to let the bastard live long enough if I catch him."

Lips tightening, the Sheriff opened his mouth just as Ray burst into the door behind him. "Dave! Where is she?" Ray asked quickly, glancing around the tiny room. "How is she?"

Turning to face his brother-in-law's wild gaze, Dave held up a hand. "They're doing some tests, Ray. So far, no internal injuries."

"The baby?" Tommy asked quickly, sliding into the room behind his brother.

"She's okay so far," Dave said quietly, understanding his brothers-in-law concern. "We're waiting, guys. Where are your parents?"

Frowning, Ray shook his head as he leaned against the wall. "Haven't told 'em yet. I wanted to know as much as I could before I broke the news to Mama and Daddy. Shit, Dave, this is likely to bring on another heart attack. You know it and I know it," Ray worried aloud, running a shaking hand through his hair.

"This was Bartane's work, wasn't it?" Tommy asked angrily. "How the hell did that bastard get to her, Dave?" he demanded, barely containing his rage as he bounced on his heels.

"Son of a bitch was here in the hospital and got her while I went to get the truck," Dave ground out, his anger rising another notch as he pounded his hand against the small rolling table.

"What the hell?" Tommy yelled, his eyes jerking crazily around the small group. "Was he waitin' on her? How would he have known she was here?"

"I don't give a damn about his reasons. When I get done with him, he'll never touch her again," Dave declared, his voice deadly calm as he met the eyes of Lizzie's agitated brothers.

"Shoulda killed him last time," Tommy snorted, kicking out at a nearby trashcan, crashing it with a clatter to the linoleum floor.

"Tommy Joe, son, you'll help your sister a lot more if'n you calm down right now," Sheriff Slidell said calmly, nodding toward the other Winstead brother as he added, "That goes for you, too, Ray." Jerking his head toward Dave, he said, eyes narrowing, "Agent Rossi? You on board with this?"

Before he could answer, the sound of commotion filled the hallway outside the door, and seconds later, Nurse Lucille stepped back into the room, followed by the orderlies pushing a half-asleep Elizabeth Rossi back into the small room.

"Dave? Dave?" Lizzie half whispered, half moaned, her eyes barely open enough to see as she tried to peer around the room. "Are you still here?"

Quickly shoving aside Tommy as Lucille maneuvered Lizzie bed back into the center of the room, Dave quickly captured Lizzie's flailing hand in his, ignoring Tommy and Ray's low curses as they got their first look at their sister. "I'm here, sweetheart," Dave soothed, gentle fingers stroking her forehead. "I'm right here."

"Baby?" Lizzie worried huskily, her swollen eyelids barely fluttering as she tried to open her eyes.

"Honey, that bun in your oven is baking along just fine," Lucille murmured, patting Lizzie's other hand. "You just lie there and get your strength back."

"Lucy, I gotta see bout gettin' a statement from 'er," Sheriff Sliddell said, his voice pitched low.

Watching his wife tense at the unfamiliar voice, Dave raised angry eyes to the sheriff. "Not now," he barked, squeezing Lizzie's fingers reassuringly. "Not until a doctor tells me she's all right."

"It was him," Lizzie whispered, barely able to see Dave's face through her swollen eyes. "It was Billy, Dave."

"Lizzie, I need to get that into a formal statement, honey," the Sheriff urged as he stepped closer to the stretcher.

Turning sharply, Ray glared at the Sheriff. "You heard her say it! Ain't that enough for you fools!"

Groaning, Lizzie reached for her head, the loud voices echoing around her. "Hurts," she moaned.

"All right! Enough!" Dave hissed, glaring at the occupants of the room. "She's hurting. All of you! Out!" he demanded, his voice low and threatening.

Watching as the men filed out of the room, Lucille nodded approvingly at Dave. "I'll talk to my husband about mindin' his manners."

"Your husband?" Dave grunted, watching as the nurse adjusted the bags of Lizzie's IV fluid.

"The sheriff," Lucille nodded. "He's my old man," she smiled. "And he ain't one of Bartane's "yes" men. Don't burn that bridge, Mr. Rossi. He's on your side."

Nodding stiffly at her well-meaning rebuke, he asked, his voice dropping an octave, "Lizzie's really okay?"

"The doctor will be back in a jiffy just as soon as he reads those reports himself," Lucille assured him, opening a side cabinet and pulling out blue woven blanket, tucking it around Lizzie's huddled shoulders. "But there wasn't a thing on those pictures to cause any more worry."

"I can still hear you," Lizzie mumbled as she shifted underneath the extra warmth, wincing at the catch in her side.

Seeing the slight pull on her swollen face, Dave asked sharply as his hand dropped to her covered stomach, "Lizzie, what hurts?"

Shaking her head against the pillow, Lizzie swallowed hard as she whispered, her words shuddering, "My side. 'Member him kickin' me. Thought he was…he was…"

"Okay, little mama," Lucille clucked, patting Lizzie's shoulder as she soothed, "You got nothin' to worry 'bout now. Your man's gonna be glued to your side and you and that little one are gonna be just fine."

Trying to nod, Lizzie whispered roughly, "Throat hurts."

"Let me get some ice, sweetie, for you to suck on," Lucille said calmly, reaching for a small cup on the side shelf. Meeting Rossi's questioning glance, she explained, softly, as she moved toward the door, "Nothing by mouth 'til we know we're completely in the clear."

A sharp rap sounded against the closed door just then, and Dave felt Lizzie's fingers tighten convulsively against his. Gently squeezing, he leaned down next to her swollen cheek as he assured her, "I'm right here, babe."

Pushing open the door, Dr. Drury stepped back into the room, a stack of X-rays in his arms. Dropping them on the now empty chair, he moved to Lizzie's side as he addressed both Lizzie and Dave. "Okay, folks, we're in the clear for the major things. I don't see any internal damage, and there's no skull fracture. But you've got a medium-grade concussion, Mrs. Rossi, so we're going to need to admit you just to watch you and the baby overnight."

"No!" Lizzie slurred, trying to struggle into an upright position. "No, I ain't stayin' here!" she croaked, trying to shrug off the hands holding her in place. "You said she's fine! I wanna go home!" she cried, tears leaking down her bruised cheeks. Turning her head toward Dave, she pressed her cheek against his hand. "Don't wanna stay here, Dave. Please! Please, just take me home! I hate it here!"


	159. Chapter 159

_**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who has been patiently waiting for our stories to be posted. We appreciate your support and apologize for any delays. Real life, however, has taken precedence! We always want to be able to provide you with quality stories and chapters, so our postings may be a bit sporadic over the next month.**_

_**Please check out our most recent challenge on our forum – March Madness! The guidelines are simple: You suggest a pairing and choose a TV title from the list provided (shows are from the 70s, 80s, and 90s). We'll assign out the pairings & suggestions by March 4, and you have until March 31 to create just the perfect story based on the prompts you receive. Your final story does NOT have to be about the TV show prompt, but you do have to use the TV show title in the story somehow. Check out our forum, Chit Chat on Author's Corner, for details and to sign up…you can find a link on our profile pages.**_

_**As always, we do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters that we so enjoy writing. If we did own them, we would have never had JJ leave!**_

* * *

__**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred Fifty-Nine**

"Hey," Dave soothed softly, grimacing as the monitors beeped rapidly as her heartbeat accelerated, "Just tonight, baby. Tomorrow, we'll go home."

"No, please," she sobbed, breath hitching as she tried to push the lightweight blanket away, "I'll do whatever you want me to do...just not here...not like last time, please!"

Heart twisting at her plea, Dave pressed his cheek against hers, smoothing gentle fingers across her belly. "Think of the baby, sweetheart. Do it for the baby," he begged, his fortitude crumbling as her tears leaked against his skin, her breath coming in soft gasps.

Sobbing, Lizzie bit her lip. For the baby...she had to stay here for the baby. "For the baby," she whispered, trying to catch her breath, "but, you can't leave me. Please. Please, please, please..." she begged, growing more hysterical by the second as images of Billy Bartane pressing a knife to her stomach skittered through her mind. "He'll come back! I know he'll come back! Please don't leave!"

Soothing his lips softly against hers, he whispered, much calmer than he actually felt, "I'm not moving from your side, Elizabeth. I promise you I'll be with you always."

"You …you won't let him hurt her? Promise me, Dave! Promise me!" Lizzie pleaded hoarsely, trying to curl toward him, needing the security that she always felt when she was with him. "He wanted to k…kk…kill her, Dave! You can't let him! You have to save our baby!"

His heartbeat pounding in his ears as he recognized the sheer panic in her words, David Rossi barely held on to the last shred of his temper as he realized exactly what his wife was saying. But now was not the time to dwell on that, not when she was bordering on hysteria again. Tracing gentle fingers against her chin, Dave ordered softly, his tone determined but mild, "Elizabeth, honey, listen to me. Nobody is going to take you or our daughter away from me, do you hear me? I'm not leaving this spot. No one is going to hurt you ever again."

Nodding as the machines slowed their beeps back to a more normal level, the doctor murmured, "Keep talking to her, Mr. Rossi. She's listening. Try to get her to rest."

Smoothing the bare tip of his finger against her forehead, Dave eased down on the gurney next to her as he assured her, "I'm going to take care of everything, honey. All you need to do is rest so you and the baby can sleep."

Light steps moved behind him, the nurse pressing a cold plastic cup into his hand as she whispered, "She can have tiny bites of ice to sip on. If she holds that down, we'll get her something to drink soon."

Easing the small plastic spoon against her swollen lips, Dave smiled encouragingly as she let the small bit of ice fall on her tongue. "There's my girl."

Trying to nod as she let his words sink into her mind, Lizzie licked her lips as the ice melted against her tongue. "More."

Hearing the slight slur in that one word, Dave pressed another spoonful into her mouth, then another, his heart tightening as he catalogued the horrible bruising on her beautiful face. How could he have let this happen? How? Her always expressive green eyes that had easily teased and tempted him for months were hidden behind her swollen lids, almost as if her soul was shuttered from him. All because of that bastard that had dared to touch her again. About to press another spoonful into her lips, he realized that her face had slackened, her breathing evened out.

Reaching for the cup, Lucille dropped it quietly onto the table as she said, "Best thing for her right now, you know. She'll heal up quick as bunny if'n she can sleep like a baby. Those meds the doc gave her will help keep her calm for a while now."

"Keep the other's out of here for awhile," Dave ordered in a hushed voice. "I want to make sure she's good and asleep."

"Already done," Lucille nodded. "Frank's drivin' the boys back to the farm to tell Lizzie's parents what's goin' on. I 'spect Annie will be back down here pretty fast. I would if it were my girl layin' here. She'll rest easier with her mama and Myrtle than anybody else. Least ways, she did before. Contrary to what Lizzie might have told you, she had a lot of people that believed her before. She'll have more now when word spreads bout this. Attackin' a expectin' mama," Lucille huffed. "What kinda monster does that?"

"The kind I should have already put an end to," Dave muttered, watching Lizzie's face carefully.

"Mayhap you should go getcha a cup of joe while the gettin' is good, son. I can stay here with her," Lucille offered, reaching across Lizzie's body to pat his hand. "You're gonna need your energy."

"Not leaving her," Dave grunted, tightening his hand around his wife's protectively. "I'm not breaking anymore promises to her."

"Then I'll get somebody to bring you something up. We're gonna be movin' the little mama as soon as we get a room ready on the second floor," Lucille replied, shifting the rolling table to the side.

Feeling Lizzie roll slightly in the bed, her hands shifting aimlessly under the covers, Rossi smoothed a hand down her arm as he asked, "She needs a private room in a far corner, away from the main traffic zones."

"Frank already figured you'd be wantin' such a thing," Lucille nodded, moving toward the door. "Got my girls settin' it up as we speak. All of us are on Lizzie's side, Agent Rossi."

Hearing the slight click of the door as the older nurse slipped out of the room, Dave never turned his attention away from his restlessly sleeping wife. Easing down off the edge of the gurney, he quietly pulled the empty chair next to the bed, dropping heavily as he felt the weight of his body seem to bear down on his shoulders. Reaching up, he stroked a strand of hair out of her face, careful not to press against her increasing bruises.

The sound of a faint buzz filled the room, drawing his attention to his phone. Quickly silencing the noise for fear that the smallest sound would interrupt Lizzie's sleep, he glanced down at the display. He honestly wasn't surprised to see Aaron's number flashing.


	160. Chapter 160

_**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who has been patiently waiting for our stories to be posted. We appreciate your support and apologize for any delays. Real life, however, has taken precedence! We always want to be able to provide you with quality stories and chapters, so our postings may be a bit sporadic over the next month.**_

_**Please...check out our new forum topic: A Fanfic Glossary! We want to know if you guys find it helpful and our topic thread "Our Stance on the 2010 Criminal Minds Fanfic Awards". We have also opened a Criminal Minds: Suspect Behavior thread where you may discuss the show (respectfully, of course). We also have a forum announcing our fellow author's (Kathi1C) new IheartCriminalMinds blog. You can ask her questions and get directions on going to her site.**_

_**As always, we do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters that we so enjoy writing. If we did own them, we would have never had JJ leave!**_

_**Let me know what ya'll think!**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Sixty**

Clicking the connect button, Dave whispered softly as he stepped away from the bed, one eye still firmly glued to his wife, "Rossi."

"Ray called me, Dave. How is she?" Hotch snapped quickly, his voice tight from hundreds of miles away.

"Battered and bruised," Dave bit out succinctly, his fist clenching. "Get your asses down here. The Sheriff has invited us in," he ordered briskly, not bothering to mince words.

"Ray told me," Hotch replied, his voice just as sharp. "JJ's already put the wheels in motion."

"Three other victims," Dave hissed, keeping his voice low as he watched Lizzie's face. "He's escalating. And the Sheriff thinks that he isn't acting alone. What the hell kind of town do you come from Aaron?"

"Dave, there's evil everywhere. It isn't confined to Piermont," Hotch said tiredly. "It's just hitting in our backyard this time."

"Yeah, well, this is the last time. We're taking the bastard down and we're doing it hard," Dave growled, his voice cold. "I'm done playing be the rules. Damn it, Aaron, it hurts to look at her."

"Dave," Hotch said quietly, the one word filled with emotion and warning.

"I was gone ten minutes, Aaron. This is what he did to her in ten fucking minutes," Dave whispered brokenly. "I could have lost everything. Lizzie. The baby. And at the hands of somebody that shouldn't have ever been released from prison. How in the hell..."

"I've got Morgan looking into it, Dave. We should have some answers soon," Hotch murmured. "In the meantime, just try and keep it together. We'll be there as soon as we can."

"I'll see you soon," Dave replied quickly as he watched Lizzie's swollen eyes crack and her low moan reverberated over him. Leaning forward, Dave whispered, "I'm here, babe."

"So tired," Lizzie mumbled hoarsely, her lips tightening painfully as she tried to speak, barely able to make out his face through the slits in her eyes. The world seemed to spin strangely as she felt her body grow heavier and heavier as she drew in a deep shuddering breath.

"Then go back to sleep, sweetheart," Dave soothed, his heart cracking at the sheer effort it had taken for her eek out those tiny words. "I'm going to stay right here by your side."

And he always would be.

Shifting in the sagging chair next to the large hospital bed, Dave met the worried eyes of his mother-in-law from the other side of the bed. From the moment Anne Winstead had barreled into the hospital room three hours ago, her eyes filled with worry and pain, she had kept a strong vigil next to her only daughter. Dave had no doubts as to where Lizzie inherited her tenacity, the older Winstead woman giving him a perfect insight as to his wife's nature. His father-in-law had taken one look at his battered daughter, muttered a violent curse, and stomped from the room. Dave had motioned for Ray to follow, knowing that it would take a cooler head than he currently possessed to calm down the rightfully irate man.

Rubbing Lizzie's arm as her daughter slept, Anne whispered, asking for the third time, "Are you sure the doctors said there's not any brain damage? Should she be sleeping like this?"

"The doctors and nurses all assured us that there's no signs of fractures or swelling," Dave answered softly, careful not to raise his voice, knowing that the slightest amount of noise aggravated Lizzie's concussion. The nurses had closed the blinds and dimmed the lights, all in an attempt to reduce any stimulation. The only sounds came from the always present hospital monitors, their slight beeps a comfort, though, as they assured him that both Lizzie and the baby were finally resting.

The sound of voices on the other side of the closed door drew his attention. Standing warily, he noticed Anne move closer to Lizzie as he watched the door open slowly and Aaron Hotchner's concerned face appeared.

"Aaron," Anne said, releasing a shuddery breath as she saw her nephew framed in the open doorway. "I didn't expect y'all to come so quickly."

"We're all here, Aunt Anne," Hotch said quietly, stepping into the dim room. "Dave," Hotch whispered, "You got a minute?"

Shaking his head, Dave tightened his hand protectively around Lizzie's arm. "I'm not leaving, Aaron. Not until she's fully awake and alert."

Seeing the two men exchange a meaningful look, Anne stood. "I can see y'all need to talk bus'ness. I'll just go check on James. It's time for his medicine and if I know him, he's plumb forgot about it," she murmured, smoothing a cool hand against her daughter's hair.

"Thank you, Aunt Anne," Hotch said quietly as she passed him on the way out. Waiting until the door shut behind her, Hotch looked at Dave's lined face. "You look like hell," he said softly, moving to the seat Anne had vacated. Wincing, he stared down at Lizzie's battered slack face. "Jesus!" he whispered, touching her forehead gently.

"Yeah," Dave snorted. "I'm going to kill the son of a bitch, Aaron," Dave seethed. "Slowly and painfully. Look what that bastard did to my Elizabeth!" he hissed.

Seeing the older man's face clench with rage, Hotch blew out a long breath. He'd known David Rossi for over twenty years. He'd seen him at all levels of angry. Enraged, even. But, he'd never seen him coldly homicidal. Never seen his eyes promising grim death to anyone.

Until Lizzie.

Until his tiny cousin had overtaken the jaded man's heart. She'd managed to do what a legion of other women had never been able to accomplish. She'd completely wrapped herself around David's heart.

And while that kind of love was amazing, Hotch knew it could be destructive. Licking his lips, Hotch urged quietly, "You've got to start thinking like an agent, Dave."

"Fuck the Bureau," Dave hissed, raising cold eyes to meet Aaron's stare. "He hurt her. Again. He beat the shit and did God knows what else," Dave growled, stopping abruptly as he swallowed tightly.


	161. Chapter 161

_**Author's Note: So, it's been a while, our friends. Sorry for the delay in posting. But, I swear, I think my co-author and I have found a way to keep writing. **__**Ton and I have devised a new strategy. With eleven ongoing epics (and two more that we had not even began to post yet), we've come up with a plan. Each month we are going to concentrate on bringing you chapters of FOUR of the eleven stories we have out there. Each month, we'll alternate. Now, that doesn't mean that you won't get the odd chapter of the other seven stories ongoing during the month if the muse cooperates, but we want to bring you well written material and we think this will help. You'll also see oneshots, challenge pieces, and post eps (especially with our Shakespeare Series) during the month, too, but we'll only concentrate on four epics during any month. Make sense? I hope so.**_

_**For the month of April, we'll be concentrating on the epics, "Southern Traditions", "The Girl Who Lived", "In Sunshine or In Shadow", and "Sweet Silver Lining".**_

_**At any rate, those of you not familiar with our work, please swing by our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" for ongoing discussion threads and challenges. We'd love to have you.**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions **

**Chapter 161**

"Did he..." Hotch whispered, unable to finish the sentence as he glanced back at the battered face of his young cousin.

"The rape kit hasn't come back yet," Dave said faintly, obviously fighting for control. "And she was too traumatized to ask if..." Breathing deeply as he attempted to swallow, he whispered, "Her blouse had been torn off...The bastard bit her breast. One side of her panties had been ripped. If he didn't rape her, he tried to."

"God," Hotch gasped, feeling bile rising in his throat.

Fingering her soft curls, Dave focused on his wife's face as he continued. "She fought back though," he whispered with a short nod. "They found skin and blood beneath her nails. We'll have DNA proof that it was him."

"Now, all we need to do is find the bastard," Hotch nodded, forcing himself to inhale slowly as the salty taste in his mouth faded.

"He should have never been out of prison," Rossi barked, lowering his voice as Lizzie stirred in the bed. Turning dark eyes to his partner, he muttered, "I promised Lizzie he'd be in there for a long time. Made the arrangements myself. What the hell happened?"

"The best Morgan can find out so far, two members of the parole board heard his case in private and issued a sealed ruling," Hotch provided, his jaw tightening as he shared the information. "Needless to say, both members are friends of friends of the Bartanes. Georgia politics has never been known for following the Sunshine Law."

"Damn bastards. Where's the son of a bitch now?" Rossi ground out, his eyes narrowing as he glanced up at Lizzie's monitors, assuring himself for the fifteenth time that she was still resting comfortably.

"Like I said, Dave, we'll find him," Hotch said, assuring himself as much as the other man, his own fury rising in waves as he let his eyes linger on his battered cousin.

Shaking his head as he slid soft fingers against Lizzie's wedding band, Dave muttered, "You're going to have to take lead on this, Hotch. I won't let her be hurt again, and if that means that I never leave her side, so be it." Raising his head, he added, his tone deadly calm, "But he's mine, you hear me? He'll pay for what he's done to her. Justice is going to be at the end of my gun this time, not at the whim of some fucking corrupt judge."

"Dave," Hotch said softly, "I understand the anger. If this had happened to Haley...I would have been out of control. But she," he said, nodding to Lizzie's battered body, "is going to need you now more than ever. She needs one of the very few men left in the world that she trusts to keep his sanity. Killing Bartane will only take you away from her when she needs you MOST."

"So what am I supposed to do, Aaron?" Dave asked, raising tortured eyes to Hotch. "Let it go?"

"Of course not," Hotch denied softly. "You trust me and the rest of the team to do what we're good at. We help the Sheriff build an insurmountable case and we stop him legally."

Exhaling a shuddery breath, Dave tried to control the rage...the pain...the unbelievably red hot anger building inside him. "If he comes near her...if he so much as breathes in her air space, I'll kill him. Fucking laws be damned."

"Then we do everything we can to prevent that from happening," Hotch replied steadily. Rising from his chair, Hotch whispered, "I'm going to go find you some coffee and a clean shirt," he murmured, nodding to the blood spattered shirt he still wore. "When she comes to, she doesn't need to see you like this. You concentrate on Lizzie. We'll handle the rest."

Nodding wordlessly as his worried eyes drifted back to his wife, Dave ordered gruffly, "Keep me informed." Hearing the door quietly close behind Hotch, Dave watched Lizzie's eyes flicker.

"Dave?" she asked weakly, her fingers rustling against the edge of the crisp sheet.

Rising quickly to stand beside the bed, Dave whispered quickly, "I'm here, baby. You okay?"

"Heard you," she muttered through cracked lips, trying to swallow but finding the effort too hard. "No violence," she ordered, her voice wavering. "Hear me? No violence."

Smoothing a hand against her shoulder, Dave said softly, "There's nothing for you to worry about, honey. Close your eyes and go back to sleep, okay?"

"Not 'til you promise," she answered, trying to shake her head against the pillow, the motion sending another wave of dizziness through her body. "Need you to behave. Baby needs her daddy."

His heart clenching at the weariness he heard in those few words, Dave stroked her hand as he whispered, "Her daddy's not going anywhere, honey. I'm staying right here with both of you."

"Promise you'll listen to Aaron," she demanded, trying to push up in the bed, swatting weakly at his hands as he tried to hold her into place.

"Sweetheart, I'll promise if you don't move," Dave ordered, his tone tempered as he slid his hands across her restless shoulders. "The doctor said it's best if you stay still for a while."

"Been still," she groaned, shifting again, needing to see him. But her body refused to cooperate, refused to obey her simple commands. Dropping her head heavily back on the pillow, she begged, "Hold me?"

Wanting nothing more than to climb next to his wounded wife and do that very thing, Dave held himself in check as he murmured, "I don't want to hurt you, baby."

"Need you," she moaned, wincing as she rolled in the bed again, the IV line pulling against her movements.

His eyes drawn to the suddenly active monitors, he could see her agitation growing by the second as he whispered, "Hold on, honey." Easing onto the large bed beside her, Dave adjusted the blankets as he let Lizzie ease into the position that was best for her. When she finally settled on her side, her back pressed against his chest and her head tucked under his chin, he wrapped a gentle hand around her waist, cupping the mound that had protected their unborn daughter. He murmured into her mussed curls, "Better now?"

"Uh huh," she slurred, the newest waves of medicines slipping into her veins as she clutched at Dave's hand, his warmth surrounding her and lulling her back into the blessed darkness.


	162. Chapter 162

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Two**

Opening her eyes to a darkened room, Lizzie's breath hitched as she struggled to bring her vision into focus. Attempting to bring her hand to her face and scrub her eyes, she winced as the skin on her hand pulled. Squinting as she looked down, she could see the IV tubing and tape attached to her hand. And slowly, images began to collide in her mind.

Oh, God! Her baby! Automatically dropping her hand to her belly as she grabbed the plastic railing of the bed, determined to bring her body upright, she heard a sound beside her. Swinging her head to the right, she screamed as she watched a large body slowly rise from the corner.

"Lizzie!" Dave shouted above her scream, rapidly reaching for the light above her bed, "It's me, babe! It's Dave!"

Her scream died in her throat as his face suddenly became illuminated by the light attached to her bed. "Dave?" she whispered, clutching the front of her gown as she finally managed to gain an upright position. "Where am I? What time is it?" she asked, trying to control the shakes currently climbing over her body. "The baby! Is the baby okay?"

"Easy, honey," Dave soothed, holding his hands out in front of him, ever cautious of spooking the petite woman he'd married. And with every passing second, he once again cursed the man that had put her in this untenable position. "Everything's fine. She's fine. What do you remember, honey?" he asked, moving closer as she seemed to slowly calm.

Licking her lips, Lizzie swallowed painfully. "Thirsty," she whispered, purposely avoiding his question.

Grabbing the yellow plastic pitcher from the rolling tray table, he carefully poured her some water. Lifting the cup to her lips, he watched as she took a long sip. "Better?" he asked when she pulled away.

Nodding, Lizzie stated in a numb whisper, "We're in the hospital."

"Just for the night," Dave replied quickly but calmly, well aware of her worries and fears. "The doctor has already been in and said that tonight was more of a precaution than anything. We'll go home in the morning."

"What time..." Lizzie asked, looking over her shoulder into the dark night, trying to clear her confused mind.

"After two in the morning. They gave you some medication that helped you sleep," Dave explained, bracing his hands against the bed.

"You mean they sedated me," Lizzie said bluntly, lifting a hand to push her unruly curls off her injured face. "How bad do I look, Dave?" she whispered tremulously.

Shaking his head, Dave smiled encouragingly as he said, rubbing a tentative hand against her leg, "You're beautiful, Elizabeth. You always have been and you always will be."

"Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes, Dave," Lizzie ordered with a strengthening voice, straightening her shoulders as she blinked, focusing more clearly on his face as she asked again, "Tell me the truth this time. How bad do I look?"

Staring into her still-swollen eyes, Dave swallowed as he carefully measured his words. "You've been attacked, babe. Let's focus on the fact that you and the baby are alive and have no internal injuries. There's some bruising, but the doctor said that some of the swelling is already starting to recede, and you'll…"

"You're stalling," Lizzie interrupted flatly, raising her fingers to press against her swollen cheek, wincing as she touched the sensitive skin. Swallowing against the surge of pain at that simple motion, she whispered, "I want a mirror, Dave."

"Honey," he sighed, raising a gentle hand to capture hers, pulling it away from her damaged skin, "Don't worry about it right now. Let's concentrate on how well you and the baby are doing."

Attempting to push past him, Lizzie huffed, "I'll just go and look for myself." She knew she was being obstinate, but she needed to see the damage. Needed to see how badly that dog in the manger had managed to mangle her this time. It _felt _like she'd been hit by a semi forty goin' north. She could only imagine how it looked.

Restraining her gently, Dave frowned. "Elizabeth, enough. Bruises fade. Scratches heal. You're alive and that's all that matters to me."

"Either hand me my compact from my purse or make a path, Dave," Lizzie said evenly, quietly resolute.

"Damn it!" Dave growled, reluctantly reaching for her purse on the nightstand. Fishing inside, he located the small compact, wondering whether he was making a huge mistake. Handing it over into her shaking hand, he shook his head. "This is stupid, Lizzie. Your looks are the least of our concerns right now."

Cracking the compact open, Lizzie took a deep breath before peering into the small mirror. Breath stilling in her throat, she could only stare at her reflection in the small mirror. "Well," she said faintly, "Don't I just look like I got smacked upside the head with an ugly stick?"

"You look beautiful," Dave contradicted her, wrapping his fingers around hers and closing the mirror with a definite snap. Tilting her chin with his finger, he stared into her swollen eyes as he said, "Nothing will ever change that, Elizabeth, do you hear me?"

"What you say and what I saw are two completely different kettles of fish," Lizzie muttered as she avoided his gaze, trying to snatch the mirror back only to watch him shift it to his other hand and drop it on the far counter. "I wasn't finished with that, Mr. Snatchy Pants."

"Yes, you were," he rumbled, easing down on the bed beside her, his weight dipping the mattress to the side. Half pleased that she was at least fighting back at him, he still wasn't willing to let her upset herself. "I'm not going to say this again, Elizabeth. It's useless to waste your energy worrying about something that'll fix itself. The doctor said you need rest and no stress, and by God, that's what you're going to get!" Seeing her mouth open, he pressed a gentle finger to her dry lips as he added, his voice low, "No more."

Plopping back against the pillows, Lizzie pressed her trembling hand against her stomach as she groaned, "Don't go givin' me orders, Dave. I don't have the energy to fight you off and you'll get the idea that I'm gonna let you slide this easily all the time."

"I'd never think such a thing," Dave replied, a faint relieved smile playing on the edge of his lips as he gave thanks to whoever was listening that his normal Lizzie was still in there. "You've taught me better, haven't you?"


	163. Chapter 163

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Three**

"Darn tootin' I have," she muttered, letting him link his fingers with hers as she scooted slightly closer to him, wincing again at that movement as she let out a muffled "Ouch!"

Immediately dropping his eyes to her restlessly shifting body, Dave murmured, worry once again filling his voice, "Lizzie? What hurts, babe?"

"Pick a place," she muttered, trying to adjust the pillow behind her aching back. Letting out an impatient sigh, she demanded, "What did that monster use to hit me with after I passed out? A two by four?"

"I was hoping you could tell me what happened, honey," Dave replied carefully, his eyes searching her battered face for any signs of memories. "When you feel up to it, that is," he added quickly, lifting a gentle hand to tuck a strand of curls behind her ear.

Wincing as she adjusted on the mattress again, Lizzie shuddered. "It's all jumbled, Dave," she whispered, carefully leaning her cheek against his strong touch.

"Okay," Dave murmured, stroking her cheek gently, careful of the growing bruises. "Tell me what your last clear memory was," he ordered softly.

"I was waiting for you in the lobby," Lizzie replied as she let out a deep breath, her eyes meeting his for a moment. "Thinkin' bout how you were getting' too big for your britches, always fussin' bout the slightest thing."

Snorting, Dave muttered, brushing a kiss against her warm temple, "We'll agree to disagree about that, babe."

Nodding against his lips, she leaned more heavily against his strength as he slipped a supportive arm behind her back. "He found me there. The nurse had just come got that elderly couple and called them back somewhere and I was alone."

Hearing her voice tremble on that last word, Dave felt his stomach clench. It was his fault she'd been alone. He'd left her. It may have been for a good reason, but he wouldn't make that mistake again. Now or ever. Not until the bastard that hurt his Lizzie was dead or in prison. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"Why? You didn't beat the tar outta me," Lizzie retorted, her bruised cheeks flushing with anger as she swatted at his arm. "Anyway, he snuck up on me from behind just like every other snake I've ever seen. He had one of them pocket knives and normally, it wouldn't have scared me so much but he was pointin' it at the baby."

Pulling her closer, Dave's jaw clenched as he nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment.

Swallowing again as she let her mind remember those moments, Lizzie whispered, "I went with him. I knew I shouldn't have. I shoulda pitched a fit right there in the lobby, but I was scared...and that knife..."

"Don't second guess yourself, Elizabeth," Dave said softly, carefully pressing his index finger to her lips again. "You managed to get through this without getting stabbed. You did the right thing."

"Don't feel like it," Lizzie said tiredly. "Anyway, he got me in a room and then..." she broke off, a wave of tremors wracking her. Biting her lip, she grimaced, remembering too late that it, too, was scraped and raw. Just like everything else on her body. "He...he..." she stuttered.

Stiffening, Dave closed his eyes as he imagined the horrors that his wife was about to relate. "The rape kit said that there was no evidence of force, honey. Were they wrong?"

Burying her injured face against his neck, Lizzie felt hot tears slipping down her cheeks, burning the various cuts and scrapes. "Not like before. He b-bit me and tried to...to..."

Tightening his arms around her protectively, Dave submerged his face in her fragrant hair as he fought his own tears. "Shhh, baby. It doesn't matter. Nothing he did or didn't do could ever make a difference in how much I love you. He'll never get that close to you again."

Lifting her head, Lizzie met her husband's dark, loving gaze as she shook his head. "He didn't though, Dave...I swear he didn't...not like last time," she babbled, an edge of hysteria cutting into her voice as she tried control the rampant thoughts attempting to overtake her. "And I fought! I swear I did!"

"Lizzie," Dave said calmly, framing her face with gentle hands, "Honey, it wouldn't matter what he did to you. I'm always going to love you. And if I ever get my hands on the son of a bitch, he's a dead man. You should never have had to fight. The bastard shouldn't have been in your airspace. That's my fault. If anyone besides that maggot is to blame, it's me."

"It can't be your fault, Dave. You didn't make it happen," Lizzie said as she let out a deep sigh, blinking her eyes slowly as she added, "How could you think such a thing?"

"How could I not, babe?" Dave replied, shaking his head in self-recrimination, staring sadly into her bright green eyes as he shifted on the bed, easing back against the pillows. "I left you alone, Lizzie, and made you an open target."

"But you didn't know, Dave!" Lizzie all but yelled, her eyes widening as she jerked forward, pressing her hands against his chest. How could she make him believe that it wasn't his fault? How?

Capturing her hands in his, Dave drew her fingers to his lips as he pressed a soft kiss against her wounded skin. "Neither did you, babe, and you did everything you could to stop him. And I promise you that he'll never get so much as within a hundred yards of you ever again. You and our daughter are the most important things in the world to me, and I'm going to keep you safe."

"I trust you, Dave," Lizzie shuddered out, her throat catching again as she let her head drop against his chest, his arms pulling her close, capturing their unborn baby between them.

And as far as he was concerned, this was exactly where both of them would stay for the rest of their lives.


	164. Chapter 164

_**Author's Note: Hello, readers. Just a brief note for you all today. For those interested, we have a new challenge up at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". Sign-ups for our theme song challenge run through May 14, 2011. The rules are simple. Tell us your favorite character about which to write, the character you'd like to receive a story about AND what you envision that character's theme song being. We think it'll be a lot of fun and hope to see all of you there! All our best!**_

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* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter 164**

Lying quietly in his embrace, letting herself draw from his strength in the quiet room, Lizzie finally whispered, her words fluttering against his shirt, "He was wearin' a blue shirt, I think. And his eyes….his eyes…they were so ugly lookin'. Like the devil himself was lookin' out a me."

Filing away that information to share with Hotch later, Dave stroked his hand over Lizzie's tangled curls, wrapping a finger in one loose strand as he asked, softly, "That's good, honey. Keep going. What else do you remember?"

Squinting her eyes, wincing as she felt her skin pull at that simple movement, Lizzie stared blankly at the tiled ceiling. "I remember hearin' him talkin' to somebody. But I might have been dreamin' up things by then."

"Before or after, honey?" Dave asked softly, his jaw clenching again as he forced himself to remain still, to not frighten her again. He could still feel the tremors that rolled through her stiff limbs, her fingers clutching at his sleeve and then letting loose. Smoothing his hands down her back, he attempted to soothe away the horrors that were still hiding just around the corner.

Her memories seemed so hazy, reality coming in waves that blurred just as she almost grabbed hold of the thought. Rubbing her cheek against his soft shirt, the smooth fabric soothing to her bruised skin, she murmured, slowly, "After, I think. His voice…it was like he was whispering…but he kept repeatin' the same words…."

His brow furrowing, Dave questioned, "Could you hear someone speaking back to him?" The sound of squeaking footsteps ebbed and flowed in the distance, a faint reminder of their current location.

Shaking her head, Lizzie swallowed hard at the pain that simple motion slid down her spine. Starting to speak, she felt Dave's fingers press gently to her lips.

"What hurts, Elizabeth?" he demanded, pulling back to stare into her eyes, his hand gently cupping the nape of her neck as he avoided the bruises.

Sighing, she admitted, blinking slowly as she let herself focus on his dark eyes, "My neck. I feel like I've been out ridin' a buckin' bronco and got thrown afore my eight seconds were up."

Gently gliding his fingers underneath the faded cotton gown, Dave started to tenderly massage her stiff muscles, carefully watching her face for any signs of pain. "Is that too hard, babe?"

"Feels wonderful," Lizzie groaned as she leaned into his touch, letting her head loll forward as his fingers began to work magic. Shifting on the small bed, pulling her IV tubing out of the way, she murmured, "I didn't hear another voice. I just heard his rotten words."

Forcing himself to think on her words as an agent, not as a pissed-off husband, Dave let these new facts roll through his mind as he continued to stroke her bruised body. Keeping his tone even, he whispered against her forehead, "Could he have been on a cell phone?"

"I dunno, Dave. It was all so fuzzy…." Lizzie could hear her word starting to slur, the fatigue and pain meds claiming her thoughts once again, his touch warming and lulling. Trying to force herself to think clearly, she mumbled, "Does it matter?"

Drawing her closer as he shifted them against the narrow bed, the mattress squeaking beneath their combined weight, Dave continued to massage her neck as he encouraged, "Don't worry about it now, honey. Just close your eyes for me."

Sighing as she rested her head against his broad chest, Lizzie glanced up at his tired, lined face. Forcing herself to remember that he needed rest as much as she apparently did, she drew in a deep breath. "Dave, you look like the garbage truck run you over, then backed up and did it again. Why don't you go home and get a few hours sleep?"

"I'll go home when you do," Dave replied firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "Not a second before. I'm fine right where I am," Dave assured her, sliding his fingers up and down her neck as he stared back at her.

"Well, now, that's just silly. I'm bettin' you've got to deputies standin' right outside that door yonder," she said, nodding toward the entrance to her room.

"I do," Dave agreed impassively, "but, I'm still staying exactly where I am." Feeling her settle against him, Dave sighed. As if he'd even consider allowing her out of his sight. After almost losing her, she'd be lucky if he didn't escort her to the bathroom from now on. Startled, he heard her soft voice a few minutes later whispering tremulously, "You think they'll catch him, Dave?"

"I know they will, Elizabeth," Dave replied deeply, his voice filled with confidence. "The whole team is here. Even Garcia. It's just a matter of time now."

"I believe you," she murmured, her words almost lost, muffled in the fabric of his shirt. And as she floated back into the land of nod, her mind once again succumbing to the miracles of modern medicine and the warmth of her husband's body, Lizzie's last conscious thought was that she honestly did believe him. She trusted him. Her Dave would never let her down.

Feeling her fingers clutch at his sleeve, he continued to delicately knead her muscles, her breaths evening out underneath his touch. Staring down at her battered face, the dark bruises already forming on her pale skin, he couldn't help but wonder how he had ever deserved her unfailing belief and trust. Even though she had every right to blame him, to rail against him, against his failures, she was still trusting him to take care of her and their baby. And he'd be damned if he'd let that trust fall by the wayside.

Never again.

The gift she had given him was too fragile, too important to take for granted. Even if he had to personally shoot the bastard that had done this to her, he would ensure that she never had to fear again. Never.


	165. Chapter 165

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter 165**

Swatting uselessly at the strong arms surrounding her, Lizzie Rossi ordered in a high-pitched voice as she shielded her eyes from the afternoon sun, "David Rossi, put me down this instant! I am more than capable of haulin' myself up a few steps on my own two legs, you hear me?"

Cocking one brow as he shifted her light frame in his arms, Dave continued on his forward journey toward the front porch of her childhood home as he said, implacably, "Argue all you want, Elizabeth, but it's still not going to do you any good. You and I both heard the doctor's orders. You are to take it easy for the next week."

"And you've lost your marbles all across the floor if you think I'm gonna let you haul me around like a sack of potatoes," Lizzie huffed, pinching his arm again as he hitched her against his chest, his sure feet stomping up the porch steps.

"Quit that huffin' and puffin', Little Bit," Granddaddy called from his seat, frowning at his granddaughter. "The Yankee's got cause to storm the gates this time. You just zip those lips and let him take care of you," he ordered, propping his rifle against his chair, its presence now a necessity in the Winstead clan's eyes.

"But Granddaddy..." Lizzie whined, slowly turning her head toward her well-meaning relative, wincing as the motion still causing some residual pain.

"I think he means it, darlin'," Myrtle said, prodding her rocker into motion as her rheumy eyes found her great-niece. "Ain't no sense in puttin' up a fuss, now is there?"

"But Auntie," Lizzie moaned morosely as Granddaddy reached for the storm door, opening it wide for Dave.

"Give it up, Babe," Dave said softly, dropping a kiss to her forehead, "I think your supporters have deserted you. The only place you're going is bed."

"No, Dave," Lizzie objected loudly, smacking at his arm. "I've been layin' in bed like a slug for days," she complained, her words ending on a pronounced whine.

"One day," Dave corrected with a shake of his head. "And that's not nearly long enough," he grumbled, shifting her in his arms as he turned toward the stairs, intending to take her directly to the bedroom they had been sharing since they'd been in Georgia.

Frantically grabbing hold of the newel post on the edge of the banister, Lizzie wrapped her fingers around the wood as she ordered, "Stop right there, buster! I ain't gonna be stuck upstairs by my lonesome while the rest of the world goes by down here!"

Letting out an impatient sigh as he gently shifted her in his arms again, Dave stared down at her flashing green eyes, the swollen bruises still evident on her pale skin. "Honey," he measured out carefully, "It's just for a day. I promise that I'm not leaving your side, so you're not going to be alone. But you are going to rest."

"I can rest just as well in the sunroom," Lizzie objected immediately, gesturing over his shoulder toward the bright room at the back of the house, tightening her arm around his neck as she added, prettily, "Mama's got that big ol' chaise lounge that'll be just perfect."

Noticing that her hand wasn't budging from the post, Dave countered, "But the bedroom upstairs is closer to the bathroom, babe. Fewer steps. And I know for sure I heard the doctor say that you're to stay off your feet." Grinning, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Besides, that chaise lounge doesn't exactly have room for me to crawl in and hold my wife, now does it?"

"Low blow, Rossi," Lizzie muttered, knowing that she was definitely attached to having her husband close by, needing his strength and touch.

"Elizabeth Grace!" her mother's voice called out from the hallway, growing closer as footsteps sounded behind her. "What in the world are you doing out of bed?"

"See, babe?" Rossi grinned, shifting her so she could see her mother, her hand releasing the post as she tightened her grip around his neck. "Your mother agrees. It's off to bed."

And a minute later, that's exactly where Lizzie found herself, tucked into the middle of her childhood bed in her childhood room. "Don't be gettin' any ideas that you're gonna get your way all the time, Rossi," Lizzie snapped as she let herself fall against the pillows, her body reminding her that she still wasn't completely up to par. "As soon as I get myself back in gear, I'm gonna kick your rear end from here to kingdom come."

"Babe, believe it or not," Dave said, leaning forward as he smoothed her unruly curls back from her injured face, "I can't wait until you're strong enough to try. But, for now, you need to allow my caveman tactics and concentrate on regaining your strength and taking care of our daughter."

Moving her hand to the small bulge, Lizzie rubbed her hand over the skin, reassuring herself that her little girl was still alive and well. "It's a miracle that she's still in there, isn't it?" Lizzie whispered.

"Yeah, honey," Dave murmured, pressing his lips to Lizzie's forehead, "It is. And neither one of us should look a gift horse in the mouth."

Smiling, Lizzie pointed at him, "Did you just hear yourself. We're rubbing off on you. You just used an animal in a sentence," she teased.

"God, help me," Dave groaned, looking up at the ceiling. "See, you people have sucked me into your craziness."

"You love it," Lizzie accused, tickling his ribs as he pulled her into his arms.

"Correction, I love you. That makes me willing to put up with the rest of them," Dave chided, pressing a kiss to her curls as her laughter washed over him, assuring him that she was recovering. Feeling her jerk against him as an abrupt knock fell against the bedroom door, Dave pressed his lips to her temple as she stiffened. "Shhh, baby, you're home now. It's probably just one of your brothers."

Nodding jerkily against him, Lizzie swallowed convulsively. "I know...I just..."

"You don't need to say a word, babe," Dave mumbled against her hair, her fear gnawing at him. "Come in!" he called over his shoulder.


	166. Chapter 166

**_Hello, friends! Our newest challenge, Fanfic Challenge Round 12 "Writers of the Silver Screen" is underway! Assignments have been distributed, and new stories are already being posted, so please check out the forum for the updated list!_**

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**_Now, on with the show..._**

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Six**

"Uh...Dave?" Ray said uncertainly, opening the door to stick his head inside and glance around. "Aaron's downstairs and wanted to talk to you. I can sit with Lizzie, if you wanna..."

"Go on," Lizzie whispered as she tried to smile, nudging Dave gently. "Ray will sit with me, won't you, Ray?"

Dave tightened his arm around Lizzie's shoulder as he muttered, "Babe, I can talk to Aaron later. We just got you home and settled and…"

"And I'm not going to move off this bed," Lizzie replied with a firm push against his arm, her smile now steady as she added, rolling her eyes, "Trust me, Ray's just as much of a fussbudget as you are, so it's not like I'm gonna be climbing down the trellis anytime soon."

Tilting his wife's determined chin, Dave stared down into her bright green eyes as he assured her, "I won't be gone but just a minute, Elizabeth."

Shifting back against the mound of pillows, Lizzie grabbed a small embroidered cushion, stuffing it behind her lower back. "The sooner you get gone, the sooner you come back."

Dropping a quick kiss to her perky nose, Dave slid off the bed as he met his brother-in-law's eyes, muttering under his breath, "You know what to do, Ray. She doesn't move a muscle without one of us carrying her or helping her."

"I ain't goin' anywhere, Dave," Ray assured him as he dropped into the comfortable chair that had been moved beside the large bed, propping his feet up on the wooden rail.

Stepping out into the hallway with one last look at his wife, Dave took the steps two by two back down to the lower level. Following the sound of voices, he found his teammate raiding the refrigerator in the brightly lit kitchen while carrying on a conversation with Lizzie's mother.

Seeing Dave enter the room, Anne Winstead dried her hands on her dish towel as she met his eyes, asking quickly, "Lizzie? She's okay?"

"She's fine, Mama," Dave assured her, grinning tiredly as he leaned against the wide counter. "Ray's pulling bedside duty until I head back up."

"I don't know which one to feel sorrier for," Hotch quipped, shaking his head as he poured two glasses of sweet tea. "Ray's got age and size on Lizzie, but I've seen her take him out in five seconds when he crossed her in the past."

Dropping some fruit on large plate on a wicker tray, Anne picked up the entire thing as she bustled from the room. "I'll run this up and check on them. Lizzie needs to eat, and now's a good a time as any."

Grabbing one of the glasses of tea, Dave met Aaron's eyes as he demanded, softly, "Okay, what's happened?"

"Garcia's got the entire Bartane family's financials tapped and is watching it. If there's a questionable transaction, she'll find it. Morgan and Reid are watching the Mayor. We both know that eventually Billy is gonna try to make contact with his father. And Emily is talking to the other victims...trying to convince them to press charges. It seems some of the Bartane henchmen have already gotten to the girls. They've stopped trying to use money to coerce his victims. Evidently they've decided that threats and intimidation will suffice."

"Bastard," Dave bit out, his fist tightening against the Formica counter behind him. "We need to find these sons of bitches fast, Aaron. Every second that monster runs loose, Lizzie loses sleep."

"Dave, we'll get him," Hotch assured the angry man, his obvious impatience echoed in his body language.

"Fast, Aaron," Dave demanded, his voice rising before he realized it.

"Dave?" both men heard Lizzie's voice drift worriedly down the stairs.

Wincing as he realized how loud he must have been, he muttered, "Damn it." Walking quickly to the foot of the stairs, he called, "Everything's fine, honey. I'll be right there." Turning back toward Hotch, he ordered, "I want results here, Aaron, or I start calling in favors from some less than savory sources. I won't let her live like this...scared of her own shadow. Not now and not ever," he said resolutely, quickly climbing the remaining steps toward his wife.

/*/

Barely resisting rolling her eyes as her overly-attentive husband once again grabbed her hand, Lizzie muttered as she glared up at him, "Last I checked, Rossi, I was more'n capable of puttin' one foot in front of the other without fallin'. I'm just moving a few feet, for goodness sakes!"

Ignoring the tone in his wife's voice, a skill he was becoming quite talented with, Dave eased her down onto the bed. He knew this little trip to the powder room hadn't been the best idea. Shifting her petite legs onto the comforter, he glanced up at her flashing eyes as he said, calmly, "And I'm not about to risk those few feet or any others along the way, babe. You've been home a whole two hours now. I don't think there's been time for a miraculous recovery yet."

"Are you being dense on purpose, Dave? A miracle don't need no time frame. Didn't you pay attention in church at all when you were a kid?" Lizzie huffed, collapsing against the high stack of pillows behind her. And unless she was mistaken, her mother must have added another four or five while she had been washing her face just now. Either that, or her pillows were starting to multiply on their own.

"I paid attention, Lizzie, but I don't think you and I had exactly the same time of religious education as children," he shook his head, easing up on the bed beside her. Seeing her mouth start to open, he raised a hand to still any argument or discussion she might be thinking of starting. "Okay, okay! I give! Yes, you can have your miracle any way it comes. But until that happens, humor me and just stay put for a while, okay?"


	167. Chapter 167

_**Hello, friends! Our newest challenge has just been posted on our forum, and we want you to join us in "The Dog Days of Summer". We've added a twist to this challenge...the story must be told from the point of view of one of the BAU's members PET! Please check out the forum to sign up...you can access the forum from ilovetvalot's profile page.**_

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_**Now, on with the show...**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Sixty Seven**

"It's not like I was running laps around the meadow," Lizzie muttered, leaning her head against his shoulder as she crossed her arms over her ample bosom. Pressing her hands to her growing belly, she said in a sing-song tone, "Don't worry, little girl. Your mama will keep you safe from Daddy's overprotective tendencies. I'll teach you all the tricks."

"The hell you will," he said, grimacing at the idea of his wife and daughter joining forces against him. "I won't stand a chance in hell if you do."

"That's kinda the idea. I'm convinced that's why the Good Lord is sendin' us a baby girl. He knew I needed the help. There's no way I could handle you on my own," Lizzie said petulantly, leaning tiredly against his chest as she let herself settle against his strength.

"Honey, you're hazardous to my health all on your own. You don't need any help with that," Dave chided, pressing a kiss to her curly head. "I'm fairly certain our daughter is going to be a carbon copy of you as it is. Let's not turn her against me before absolutely necessary," Dave begged, tightening his fingers against her rounded stomach.

"Our baby is going to think her daddy hung the moon. Same as I did," Lizzie replied softly, lifting her head to peck his cheek. "Don't nothin' get between daddies and their daughters. I oughta know. Ray and Tommy would be going rounds with daddy three times a day, but he never had a cross word to say to me."

"Because you were such an angel?" Dave teased, tightening his arms around her, well aware that his Lizzie was no angel. And thank the good Lord for that very fact. He had finally found the perfect woman, and he wasn't about to question such a miracle.

"Hardly," Lizzie snorted, pinching his arm. "Honestly, I think he was just tired by the time he got to me," she giggled. "I got away with a killin'."

"Right up until you met me," Dave smiled, elated to see genuine happiness reflected in her soft green eyes.

"I reckon you're right proud of yourself for trippin' me up," Lizzie retorted as she nodded. "Last laughs gonna be on you, though. I'm bettin' this'n inside me," she said, rubbing a circle over her belly, "turns _all_ our hair prematurely gray."

"It appears I've already got a head start in that area, babe," Dave murmured in her ear, snaking his hand around her waist as he pulled her tighter. "I've apparently added a few grey hairs to my collection over the past few weeks, thank you very much."

"Can I help it if you're older'n Methusaleh, Dave?" Lizzie grinned cheekily as she reached up to run a hand through his salt and pepper hair. "You want Mama to pick you up some of that Grecian Formula gunk at the Piggly Wiggly tomorrow? I'll dump it on your noggin myself. I hear it's all the rage with the…."

Pressing his hand over her mouth, Dave glared down into her laughing eyes as he growled, "Keep you nefarious dyeing plans to yourself, Elizabeth. And keep your hands away from my head."

"Your loss," she said, her words muffled behind his fingers, wriggling closer to him as she batted her eyes in his direction. Pulling his hand away, she added, oh so innocently, "I might have been interested in doin' a few other things while I had your head under the shower. I know how you get when we get within ten feet of water. But now, we'll never know, will we?"

Rolling against the mound of pillows, Dave carefully pulled her body over his, mindful of the bruises that dotted her pale skin. Staring up into her wide emerald eyes, he wriggled his eyebrows as he replied, "Trust me, babe, I'm sure that whatever you had planned for me would have been greatly appreciated. But until you've had a bit more time to recuperate, I think we'd better keep our activities on a tamer scale."

"Just because I have to stay out of the deep end of the pool, doesn't mean you do, Dave," Lizzie replied softly, resting her head against his shoulder, her heartbeat starting to pound in her ears.

"I no longer find swimming alone enjoyable, Sweetheart," Dave murmured against her temple. Feeling her stiffen against him slightly, Dave frowned down at the top of her head as she laid unspeaking against him. "Lizzie?" he prodded.

"It's because of him, ain't it?" Lizzie asked faintly. "Because of what I almost let happen again," she said slowly, her words heavy.

Narrowing his eyes, Dave dropped his gaze to her again. "What are you talking about, Elizabeth?" he asked softly, bracing himself for a reply that he was fairly certain would make him angry. It was obvious that he'd missed something, and he was about to find out exactly how bad that omission was.

"You know what I'm talkin' about, Dave," Lizzie muttered, attempting to ease herself from his arms, pushing her hands against the pillows. "You don't wanna even think about touchin' me that way now. I can tell! And I know why."

"What you think you know and what is the truth are apparently two polar opposites, Elizabeth," Dave replied slowly, stalling her movements as she tried to roll back onto the bed. Dropping his hands to her hips, he held her firmly in place, not failing to notice that she refuse to meet his eyes.

"Don't bother denyin' it, Dave," Lizzie whispered, her heart catching as she tried to push against him, wanting nothing more than to just curl up under the covers by herself and cry her eyes out. "I guess I shoulda expected it. You don't love me any more."

"Dammit, woman," Dave exploded softly, his jaw clenching as he attempted to control the sudden surge of rage that filled him, again wanting to kill the man that had made her doubt herself. Shaking her gently, he growled, "Are you out of your crazy mind? You honestly think that I don't want to make love with you because that son of a bitch attacked you because of no fault of your own? You know me better than that, Elizabeth. You know that I'm not that type of man."

"No, you're too honorable to just tell me that you don't want me because I'm spoiled goods," Lizzie whispered heavily, swallowing against the lump in her throat as she tried to push against his hands.


	168. Chapter 168

**_Hello, friends! Our newest challenge has just been posted on our forum, and we want you to join us in "The Dog Days of Summer". We've added a twist to this challenge...the story must be told from the point of view of one of the BAU's members PET! Please check out the forum to sign up...you can access the forum from ilovetvalot's profile page._**

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**_Now, on with the show..._**

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Eight**

Pulling himself further up on the pillows, Dave hauled her small wriggling body up even closer, his lips pressing together as he realized from her tone that she was deadly serious. Damn, what had he allowed to happen to her…again? Pressing a finger insistently beneath her stubborn chin, he tilted her face up. "Listen to me, Elizabeth. I don't ever want to hear you referring to yourself in those words again. You were a victim, and you are not spoiled. You are absolutely perfect and the most important thing in my life." Pressing a finger to her lips as she attempted to interrupt, he continued, pushing forward, "Keeping you safe is my primary focus, and that means that even though I absolutely want to make love to you, I won't because I won't hurt you."

"You don't understand, Dave," Lizzie whispered, squeezing her watering eyes closed as she attempted to stall the flood that was overwhelming her.

"Then start explaining it to me, Babe, because neither one of us is leaving this location until I get it," Dave said, his voice non-negotiable.

"I...I have to prove to myself that I can do it...that he didn't ruin it for me," Lizzie muttered, her hands clenching in the blanket covering her legs, trying to find something that would hide her from her own thoughts.

"Ruin what for you?" Dave asked evenly, sliding his hand reassuringly up her arm, her skin pebbling beneath his touch.

"Us," Lizzie groaned, flopping her head back against the overstuffed pillow. "You know...us...together...like that," she stuttered, her cheeks turning a deep ruddy red. "I don't wanna be scared of it...us. And the only way I know not to be is to jump right back into the deep end."

Comprehension dawning, Dave dropped his head back to the headboard of the bed with a soft thud. She was worrying herself to death about their sex life. Their very good sex life, up to this point. Blowing a steady stream of air out his nose, he clenched his jaw. Well, he told himself calmly, he'd overcome this particular fear with her once before, and he could do it again. With all the calmness he could muster while his stomach burned with anger at the man that had put her back in this position, Dave asked softly, "Are you scared of me, honey?"

"You? No. I just...I don't know if I can...I have to prove that I can..." she floundered, her heart racing as she reached for words that wouldn't come.

"You don't have anything to prove to me or anything else. When it's time...when you're healed, you're going to feel better. Stronger. But pushing yourself to do something that you aren't ready for isn't going to do either of us any favors, Elizabeth," Dave replied quietly.

Hearing her release a shuddery breath, he continued, "I'm not going anywhere, Elizabeth. You're the same woman you always were to me."

"What if you get tired of playing the part of patient husband?" Lizzie whispered worriedly, biting her lower lip as she attempted to overcome the rampant thoughts. Oh, she had thought that she was stronger than this, that she had been victorious in this area. But something had broken in her again when that animal had threatened her and her baby, and she now found herself fighting for control. Again.

"I won't," Dave assured her quickly.

"You don't know that," Lizzie shook her head, unable to meet his eyes. "What if while I'm pullin' myself together, your eye wanders? What if what happened between you and Emily happens for real with another woman?"

Please God, Dave prayed desperately, let this be the pregnancy hormones. Suddenly it felt as if all the ground he'd gained since finding her in Georgia again was rapidly slipping away and he was quickly coming to the end of his rope.

"Elizabeth, look at me," he quietly ordered, his words hanging heavy in the air as she kept her head lowered. Tilting her chin up again, needing to see her beautiful eyes even if she wasn't going to meet his, he murmured, "Babe, how am I ever going to make you believe that I have absolutely no reason to look in any other woman's direction? Why would I settle for second best when I have exactly what I want in my arms right now?"

"It's not that easy, Dave," Lizzie whispered, her fingers clenching and unclenching in the fabric of his shirt as she kept her eyes glued to his lips. "Things change. People change. You might…."

Reaching both hands up to cup her face, wanting to literally shake a modicum of sense into her already-rattled mind, Dave groaned, "Believe me when I say this, Elizabeth Rossi, there's not a goddamn reason big enough for me to ever even think about another woman the way I think about you. I've searched my whole life for you, and I'll be damned if I ever let you go."

Feeling a tear slip down her cheek at his words, knowing somewhere in her heart that he was actually telling her the truth, Lizzie couldn't let her fears go that easily, though. The dark cloud that was threatening to overtake her grew heavier even as she tried to believe him. And even though she wanted to trust him completely, there was still a small niggling fear in her heart that refused to let go. "Dave, you can't predict the future. I don't know how to…"

"Know this, babe," Dave interrupted her, his words rumbling in his chest as he shifted his legs, settling her deeper against his body. "Know that there's no fucking point in our present or our future that's going to ever make me quit loving you. This is our marriage, Lizzie. It's forever, for better or for worse, remember?"

"I remember, Dave," Lizzie whispered as she slowly nodded, her curls bouncing against her cheeks. "I just hope that you do," she said tremulously.


	169. Chapter 169

_Author's Note: Hello Readers! We would like to encourage each reader and author alike to participate in nominating their favorite fics and authors for the second annual "Profiler's Choice CM Awards 2011! The nomination ballot, rules and category summaries can each be found at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" Forum. To reach that post, please either take a trip to the forum itself OR links are provided on the profile pages of ilovetvalot, tonnie2001969, OR Profiler's Choice CM Awards. Nomination ballots should be pm'd to Profiler's Choice CM Awards ONLY. That link is also provided on the forum or through the profile pages listed above. We look forward to hearing from each of you!_

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_And, if we haven't stated it before, we do not own Criminal Minds, but darn, we wish we did!_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter 169**

Inhaling deeply, Dave shook his head, wondering what he could say to convince her that he was serious. But, damn, considering what the last few months had entailed, he couldn't blame her for being shaken. "Listen to me, Elizabeth," he urged softly, rubbing his thumb against her stiff neck, "I know that you've been through hell the last couple of days. And I hope to God that that's where this is stemming from. Because if it's not, I have no clue what I've been doing wrong here."

"You haven't done anything wrong," Lizzie whispered, wiping a tear off her cheek as a deep breath shuddered from her, her emotions clogging her throat as she tried to swallow. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"I'll tell you what's wrong," Dave muttered, holding her closer as he felt a sob shake her. "You got pregnant and thought I'd cheated on you. Your father had a heart attack. You reconciled with your idiot husband. Then, to put the icing on the cake, you were attacked and beaten by a fucking animal. So, I don't think there's a goddamned thing wrong with you. It's the REST of the fucking world that has a problem. YOU'RE perfect."

Trying to control the urge to weep and failing mightily, Lizzie let the tears roll down her cheek as she whispered brokenly, "I don't feel perfect. I ..I feel anything but perfect!" Swallowing as a sob welled up in her chest, she shuddered out, "I just don't know how I'm supposed to feel at all anymore."

Sweeping his hand through her vibrant curls, Dave pressed her closer to his chest as he muttered against her hair, "Right now, babe, you don't have to worry about thinking or feeling. All I want you to think on is the fact that your husband loves you and our child. And let me worry about everything else, okay?"

Nodding jerkily against his chest, Lizzie tried to burrow closer as she clenched at his shirt. "I just want it all to go away, Dave. Is that too much to ask?"

His heart literally breaking at the pitiful tone in her voice, knowing that she was doubting herself as much as worrying about everything else in their world, Dave slipped his finger underneath her chin as he whispered, "Look at me, babe."

Letting him tilt her head, Lizzie met his eyes with blurry vision, her tears seeming to well up unbidden gain as she saw the love reflected in his dark gaze.

"Honey, right now, put it all out of your mind, okay? Just trust me to take care of you. I promise you that this fucking nightmare is going to end," Dave swore gently, wrapping his arms around her again as he gently pressed a soft kiss to her full lips.

Nodding, Lizzie swallowed hard, fitting her head in the crook of Dave's neck and inhaling shakily. Releasing her breath slowly, she felt his warm hand sliding reassuringly over her back, soothing her tense muscles. "I miss Little Creek," she whispered into the still room. "I never thought there'd come a day that I felt safer somewhere other than right here, but right now, I'd give anything to be back home in our bedroom at Little Creek."

"I miss it, too, babe," Dave said softly, sighing as he felt her body soften against his, her tension slowly ebbing. "And I swear, as soon as it's safe for you and the baby to travel, we're out of here."

Lizzie shook her head. "Can't...we can't just leave while that monster's runnin' loose."

"The hell we can't. There's a perfectly competent team of profilers here. If you want to go home, we go home," Dave returned evenly.

"Let's just talk about it later, Dave," Lizzie replied tiredly, yawning. "For now,..."

"For now, you need to sleep," Dave murmured, reaching for the bedside lamp. Smiling as she snuggled against him, Dave felt her drift away, her breathing evening out as her body fully relaxed. And then, he began to plan.

/*/

And a mere twenty-four hours later, David Rossi began to see his plan come into full play. His hand wrapped around a tall glass of sweet iced tea, he glanced over at the man sitting in the other rocker on the Winstead's front porch as he asked, for the second time, "You're sure that everything's in place, right?"

Nodding as he closed the file on his lap, Aaron Hotchner replied evenly, "Just like I told you it was, Dave. We've tagged every single possible financial transfer the Bartane family could make, no matter which family member it originated from. Garcia's got tags on every airport within a hundred miles, with William Bartane and William Bartane, Jr. marked on the Do Not Fly list."

"And the local pilots?" Dave asked sharply. "I'm sure there's a few out there that would be glad to earn a few thousand to just fly Billy Boy to wherever it is that he thinks is far enough from my reach."

"All covered. You know Penelope Garcia doesn't leave any stone unturned. Between our efforts and the work the sheriff is doing, we're beating all the bushes. Sooner or later, that snake will come out from where ever he's hiding, Dave," Aaron assured him, reaching for his own glass of tea just then.

About to comment, Dave stopped as he heard Lizzie calling his name through the hallway and out onto the porch. Standing up, he moved toward the door as he called back, "I'm out here, babe. I'll be inside in a minute."

But apparently that wasn't soon enough for the expectant Elizabeth Rossi. Watching as she stepped down the stairs and onto the landing, Dave knew that he was about to have company for his little tete-a-tete. Frowning as reached the door, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders as he murmured, "Elizabeth, you're not supposed to be out of bed yet. Or have you forgotten the rules again?"


	170. Chapter 170

_**A/N - Hello. We have exactly **__**FIVE **__**days left to NOMINATE your favorite authors and stories in the second annual Criminal Minds Profiler's Choice Awards hosted by "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. Random drawings for TWO $10.00 Amazon gift cards will be given to two lucky nominators. To be considered eligible, all you have to do is fill out a ballot in ten categories or more. Winners will be announced October 16, 2011! So **__**PLEASE**__**, take a trip to the forum and grab those ballots!**_

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* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter 170**

"Would you put your rules where the sun don't shine?" Lizzie asked crossly, narrowing her eyes as she glared at her husband. "And why are ya'll standin' out here like frogs on the lilypad? Didn't ya'll hear mama call supper?"

"Just going over a few things, babe," Dave said neutrally, shaking his head as he turned his wife back toward the dining room. "Go on and grab a seat for us. Garcia and the rest of the girls are already in there, I think."

Looking apprehensively between the two men, Lizzie whispered, "Did ya'll here somethin' about..."

Seeing the fear reflected in her shining eyes, Dave immediately reassured her, "Not yet, Lizzie. Nothing else has happened. I'm just getting caught up on the plans. Now go on and sit down before Mama decides to tie you to the bed while I hold you down."

Sniffing, Lizzie eyed him closely. "I'd like to see you try. But, I'm goin'. Hurry up," she ordered, turning to walk back into the house.

Waiting until she was out of earshot, Dave turned back to Aaron and growled, "I want this fucking monster's balls, Hotch. And I wanted them yesterday."

"Dave, there isn't a person on this team that doesn't want that for you, but you know that an apprehension takes time. And in this case, we've got a lot of people that are scared of the Bartane name. Hell, they're terrified to talk and attract attention to themselves. They risk retribution if they do," Hotch explained bluntly.

"Fucking small town mentality," Dave groused, running an angry hand through his hair. "She won't leave, you know," he said, nodding toward the screen door. "I offered to pull her out of here tomorrow. Hell, I begged her. But Elizabeth is determined not to let this bastard run her away from home again before she's ready to leave."

"And you feel differently?" Hotch murmured, his question not really a question at all.

"Hell, yes, I feel differently. If that bastard hadn't gotten spooked by something, he'd have killed her, Aaron. You know it as well as I do. I want her as far away from this place as possible. But I can't afford to bully her right now. She's teetering on the edge as it is. And I won't be responsible for shoving her over the side of the cliff. Especially now, with the baby," Dave growled.

"So, you're effectively trapped between a rock and a hard place," Hotch sighed, leaning against the wooden post behind him.

"Yeah, and we both know that I don't handle being boxed in real well. I tend to firebomb my way out," Dave muttered.

"Definitely not a fan of that particular method of yours," Hotch murmured drily as he arched a brow.

"And with due respect, I don't give a shit," Dave growled low in his throat. Darting his eyes inside the old farmhouse, he jerked his head toward the screen door, "Now, come on, they're waiting on us. And I've been around this joint long enough to know how cranky your uncle can get when he doesn't get to eat his rabbit food in a timely manner."

Grinning, Hotch followed the older man inside, the sounds of boisterous laughter growing louder as they made their way toward the familial dining room. Walking into the brightly lit room, the table heavy with a tempting array of foods, Hotch found his seat as Dave made his way to his beside Lizzie's chair.

"Ya'll fellas 'bout done chewin' the fat? Sakes alive, you're worse than a couple of females," Granddaddy complained, reaching for a roll in the center of the table.

"We already said Grace," Lizzie's father proclaimed, reaching for the salad Annie had made for him with a disgusted look on his face. "You boys fill your plates."

Obediently reaching for the platter of ham in front of him, Dave tried not to grimace as Lizzie's older brother Ray asked Morgan, "Ya'll fancy folk got any solid leads yet?"

Catching the warning glint in Rossi's eyes, Morgan said noncommittally, "We're beating every bush for miles, brother. Something's gonna shake out of the brushes any time now."

Catching her brother's frown, Lizzie said quickly, "You cain't get blood from a turnip, Ray. If he ain't out there, ain't no way to catch the little bugger."

"That's not necessarily true," Granddaddy muttered, tearing his roll in half. "Sometimes, you just gotta find the right bait for the hook," he said, looking pointedly at Dave.

"Not real sure what you're suggestin', Pa," Lizzie's father said, pausing mid-spoonful of mashed potato, "but I pretty sure I'm not gonna like it."

"I agree," Dave added darkly, glancing sharply up the table with a frown.

"All I'm sayin' is that if you wanna catch the fox in the henhouse, you gotta make sure he sees the chickens," Granddaddy clarified, "and that you have your shotgun aimed at the right place."

The sound of a fork clattering against china filled the kitchen as Dave slammed his hand down. "We're not putting Lizzie in the line of fire," Dave declared flatly.

"Well, wait just a blame second," Lizzie interjected determinedly, turning sideways in her chair. "Don't ya'll think I should have a say 'bout this?"

"No!" Dave, her daddy, her brothers, her cousin and her collected co-workers yelled in unison.

"Do you even remember how it turned out the last time you tried to do your impression of a one woman justice force?" Dave growled as he glared into his wife's flashing green eyes.

"Yes, I do," Lizzie declared primly, raising one eyebrow at her husband. "That froggy fella ended up with hindend full of lead."

"And you ended up married to a Yankee, honey," Lizzie's mother reminded her. "Let's not do _that_ again."

"Why, Mama," Dave drawled sarcastically, "_I'm touched_." Turning back to his wife, Dave narrowed his gaze on the beautifully impassive face next to him. "At any rate, there's no way that anybody is going to suggest anything that puts either one of you at risk. No matter how well intentioned they may be," Dave said implacably. "Everybody got that?" he asked, glancing around the long table at the various faces surrounding them.

* * *

_**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO NOMINATE YOUR FAVORITE STORIES AND AUTHORS...TIME IS RUNNING OUT!**_


	171. Chapter 171

**Author's Note - So, I know I sound like a broken record, guys, but We've got less than two weeks left to vote in the Profiler's Choice CM Awards. ALL the details can be found on "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. Links are in my profile page. If you've got ANY questions, PLEASE PM me. Also, for every person that votes in at least TEN categories, you are automatically registered to win one of two Amazon. com gift cards. So, please, put on those reading hats, grab a cup of coffee and check out the ballot. We have some great stories and fabulous authors up for consideration.**

**Also, we have a new forum article up for your consideration at the forum by one of our fellow authors, Kricket Williams called, "The Art of the Tactful Review". Check it out! It's amazingly insightful. Look for new articles coming soon by some of your favorite writers on the CM site. Anyone that has an idea that THEY would like to write for the forum, please contact me.**

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**As always, we thank everyone for reading our stories. Reviews keep me motivated to keep going, so, if you have a moment drop a comment. Thanks again for following our work.**

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Seventy One**

Hearing the assenting chorus sounding off as her husband glared, Lizzie huffed impatiently. "Y'all, I think we've got to at least _consider_..."

"Don't say it, baby sister," Ray muttered under his breath, eyeing Rossi nervously as the elder man's jaw began tensing.

"-the _possibility_..."

"Oh, hell," Tommy muttered, slumping in his seat and pulling his hat low over his eyes as Dave visibly stiffened.

"-that _maybe..."_

"Batten down the hatches, boys," Hotch grimaced, dropping his head into one hand as he scooted his chair a few inches toward the wall.

"- ya'll should actually _use..."_

"It's gettin' a little warm in here, isn't it?" Mama asked anxiously as she fanned her napkin, staring at her son-in-law's rapidly building thunderous expression.

"-the resources at your disposal."

"Sweet Lord in heaven, help," James moaned, pushing his chair away from the table as he watched Dave's hand descend toward the table.

"Namely, _me!_" Lizzie said impatiently with a loud huff.

Dave's hand crashed against the table before her last word had died in the air. "Up! Now, Elizabeth!" Dave shouted, rising from the table.

Looking over her shoulder at her red-faced husband, Lizzie frowned. "I'm not done," she replied evenly, crossing her arms over her ample chest.

"Yes, I can promise you, you are," Dave declared insistently, gently grabbing her arm and pulling her out of her chair. Looking around, he shook his head. "Everything she said," he growled, pointing at her, "Never happened."

"Yes, it did," Lizzie argued, pinching his arm as she planted her feet firmly against her mother's hardwood floor. "I said it plain as the nose on your face. And more'n that, I'm right and you know it," she accused, jabbing a finger into his strong chest.

Smiling tightly at their gaping family, Dave forced a pleasant, "Please excuse us," from his lips before sweeping Lizzie's body into his arms and stomping toward the staircase.

Exchanging a knowing glass with his wife, James sighed. "Care to place a bet on how fast he's gonna need the screwdriver?"

"Or how long we'll be peein' at the barn?" Tommy added with a grumble, reaching for a biscuit before his brother could beat him to it.

Lifting her eyes heavenward, Lizzie's mama whispered, "Lord, help us all!"

**/***/**

Smacking at his solid chest, Elizabeth Grace Winstead Rossi squirmed in her husband's strong arms as she demanded, "Dave, you put me down this instance! I am not a sack of taters that you can haul around willy nilly! I happen to be a rational human being capable of walking on my own since I was knee high to grasshopper, thank you very much!"

Stomping up the narrow flight of steps, Dave glared down into his wife's flashing eyes as he answered, "Rational? Tell me that word didn't just come out your mouth, Elizabeth!"

"Darn it, Dave!" she exclaimed as he slammed open the door to their bedroom, her world spinning for a moment as he deposited her on the overstuffed bed. Immediately scrambling toward the edge, she snorted rather unladylike, "Tell me what's not rational about my suggestion! If it had been any other case, you would have already suggested that the best bait is always what the criminal wants, right?"

Catching her shoulder before she could reach the side of the bed, Dave pushed her down against the pillows as he bracketed her small body. "Let's get this straight, woman. You are not now or will ever be bait for anything or anyone. You are my wife and the mother of our unborn child. I will personally kill anyone who suggests that you place yourself in any position of danger."

"But Dave," Lizzie objected, pushing futilely at his protective arms, "If I don't, then he's…."

"Then nothing," he snapped, his jaw clenching tightly as he watched her cheeks flush. "How in hell did you ever think I was going to agree to such a goddamned stupid decision like that?"

"That's five dollars," Lizzie declared, getting to her knees on the bed to face her husband. "And tell me what in tarnation is so blamed wrong with my idea? Nothing, that's what. In case you missed it, I'm a certified adult fully capable of makin' my own choices and if I wanna go twitch down Main Street, then that's exactly what I'll do!"

"Really?" Dave asked conversationally, reaching into his pocket.

"Ain't nothin' wrong with your hearing, Dave," Lizzie frowned, watching her husband as he stalked toward the bed and reached for her hand gently. And before she knew what was happening, he'd deftly slipped a handcuff around her slim wrist and chained her to the wrought iron headboard. Eyes widening, she sputtered, "You let me go this instant, David Rossi!"

"But, honey," Dave drawled, taking a step back to survey his handiwork. "I can't do that."

"And why in the dickens not?" Lizzie hissed, her shining green eyes narrowing on the man that claimed to love her.

"Well, see, I'm a certified FBI agent and you're threatening to impede an ongoing investigation," he mocked.

"This isn't funny!" Lizzie yelled as she watched his self-satisfied lips settle into a smirk. "You can't do this."

"Oh, I can. And I did. And I will. Every time I think you might put yourself at risk. I've got no problem keeping you chained to this bed until our little girl makes her debut. Make no mistake about it, Elizabeth," Dave said patiently.

"I swear, David Rossi," Lizzie shrieked, "you've done gone and lost your fool mind. Get me out of these things!" she ordered, pulling her arm in futile effort against the steel encircling her slim wrist.

"My mind is exactly where I left it," Dave replied easily. "And the cuffs stay on until I'm convinced you've regained a margin of sanity and drop this idiotic notion of yours," he growled, stalking toward her.

"Did you just call me stupid?" Lizzie hissed, her green eyes flashing. "Cause I'm smart enough to name ten places off the top of my head where you're body won't never be found if I ever get out of this mess and get my hands wrapped round your neck."

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**A/N - So, are ya'll still enjoying Dave & Lizzie's ongoing story?**


	172. Chapter 172

**Author's Note: Don't forget to sign up for the 2012 Valentine's Challenge at Chit Chat on Author's Corner if you are interested. Because the forums still aren't working, feel free to email (private message) your desire to participate to either hxchick or myself.**

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred Seventy Two**

"And now you're threatening a federal officer," Dave tsked, watching as the red stain on her cheeks deepened. "You don't wanna know the penalty for that offense, Lizzie."

Tugging to no avail on the sturdy headboard, Lizzie scrambled against the mound of pillows as she tried to find some way to free herself from this newest confinement. Throwing one of the small cushions, she snapped in derision as it bounced off her husband's hard head, "What I made a mistake about was this marriage, you Neanderthal! This ain't the Middle Ages, Mr. High and Mighty! I may be a good little wife, but I sure as the dickens ain't somebody's chattel to be controlled at his every whim!" Tugging one last time, she declared at the top of her very healthy lungs, "LET ME LOOSE!"

"You can yell and scream all you want, honey," Dave replied, his face retaining its neutral expression as he ducked just in time to avoid another lobbed missile. "And as for controlling you…God, how the hell I wish I could! Lizzie, you've been hell bent for leather to put yourself in danger. And I'm fairly certain one of my jobs as your husband is to keep that from happening!" Taking a step closer to the bed, he added, firmly, "Now just lie there until I can figure out what to do next. You and the baby need the rest, anyway."

Preparing to reach for the small lamp on the bedside table, intending to find a more substantial weapon, Lizzie narrowed her eyes. Dropping her hand back demurely to her lap, she smiled ever so sweetly at her husband as she pressed her fingers to her growing stomach. "You're right, Dave. It will do me good to just calmly sit here. I can plan the nursery in my head while I recuperate my strength."

Unaccustomed to his wife's sudden acquiescence, Dave narrowed his eyes on the seemingly innocent face before him. "Okay, woman, what gives? I know you've got something up your sleeve, so…"

"Don't you want me to take your advice, Dave?" Lizzie asked, her lower lip pooching out slightly as she tilted her head, deliberately doing her best impression of being poorly misunderstood. "I thought this would make you happy. But if…"

Watching as her wide green eyes suddenly shimmered, Dave felt his own eyes widen as he held up both hands. "No crying, babe. Just sit there and relax and I'll be right back."

"Can I ask one quick favor, sweetie?" Forcing herself to keep her voice soft and filled with so-called love, Lizzie glanced longingly toward the slightly open door to the side of the room as she murmured in a half-apologetic tone, "The baby's lying on my bladder again. I need just a teensy moment in the powder room, then you can be lickety-split on your way."

Taking a half step toward the bed, Rossi cocked his head suspiciously. "No funny business?"

"Well, I can tell you it ain't gonna tickle my funny bone when we have to strip the bed and change the sheets," Lizzie warned lightly, plucking at the comforter. "C'mon, slow poke. Your little girl doesn't like to be kept sittin on her hands. And my bladder is protestin' your flagrant disregard of my basic human rights."

"Okay, okay," Dave sighed heavily, fingering the metal key in his hand, "but, straight to the bathroom and back, babe."

Smiling benignly, Lizzie nodded. Oh, she was goin' to the bathroom, all right. Waiting until her wrists were released from their iron shackles, Lizzie quickly grabbed the big pillow behind her, whacking Dave solidly in the head as she scrambled off the bed. "That's for lockin' me down like a common criminal," she yelled, wailing on him with her down-filled weapon. Smacking him again, this time in his broad chest, she shouted, "That's for treatin' me like I don't have the sense God gave a goose! And this," she said, drawing her pointed shoe back and landing a solid blow to the middle of his shins, "is for thinkin' you got the right to try to think for me. I gotta perfectly sound noggin," she hissed, tapping her temple as Dave groaned and reached down to grab his leg, "and right now it's sayin that I married a bloomin' boar of a man!"

And spinning on her heel, Elizabeth Rossi flounced toward the bathroom, her red hair streaming behind her as David moaned in pain. Of course, the soundly clicking lock sliding into place did make an impression. It always did.

Wincing at the outraged sounds his daughter was making above, James Winstead shook his head balefully. "She got your temper, Annie. Sure as the dickens, she did."

"The crazy as a coon comes from your side of the apple tree, James," Granddaddy denied vehemently, his elderly voice loud in the kitchen. "Or do I need to remind you of your Uncle Edgar?"

"No," James sighed, shaking his head, "You don't."

"That blame fool stripped buck nekkid and went streakin' through the county seat. Weren't none of MY kinfolk that did that," Granddaddy continued, ignoring his son-in-law's denial.

Sighing as she stepped between her father and husband, Annie shook her head. "Now, listen, both of you. Lizzie's not tetched...she just in the family way."

"If you ask me, same difference," Tommy muttered around his glass of ice tea.

"Nobody did," Annie said, reaching out to pinch her younger son's ear.

Tommy yelped as he tried to pull away from his mother's strong touch, dribbling sweet tea down the front of his t-shirt as he did. "Mama! What'd I do?"

"You were unsympathetic toward your sister's delicate condition," Annie answered, narrowing her eyes at the entire group of men. "It would do you all well to remember that our Lizzie's going through something that none of you never will do."

"Thank God," Ray mumbled as he reached for another biscuit, quickly scooting his chair to the side as his mother's hand moved in his direction. Holding up his hand, he added, quickly, "Just thanking the Good Lord that He knows what he's doing when it comes to his birthin' business."

"But did he have to make it so Lizzie had to lose her dang mind in the process?" Tommy asked under his breath.

"I heard that!" Annie snapped, slamming her hands to her hips as she declared, loudly, "Listen up! All of you!" Waiting until the four pair of male eyes turned in her direction, Annie said, slowly, "If you all ever want to see the inside of the upstairs powder room again, you'll be a-watchin' your tongues around Lizzie Bear."

"Oh hell, Annie," James moaned, dropping down into his chair again as he rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "If I have to take one more shower out in the barn, the cows are gonna think I've changed my address to stall nine."


	173. Chapter 173

_**Author's Note: Our newest challenge is up and running on the Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum! Join us for the Back to the Basics Challenge. All you have to do is suggest a pairing and three spring prompts for another author to write. We'll assign those prompts to someone else, and you'll receive an assignment based on another author's suggestion. As always, new authors are welcome to join us. Sign up on the forum today!**_

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* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Three**

"Don't know what _you're _complaining about! I lived there the entire nine months my girl was expectin' that'n," Granddaddy said, nodding toward Ray. "Sakes alive, old Bessie out'n the barn thought I was her new beau come to call for months."

"Yes, _you two_, had it bad. I was only tryin' to make the miracle of life." Annie flicked her dishtowel in their general direction as she rolled her eyes. "The point is," she said, leveling a glare toward the group of collected men, "each one of you is going to tiptoe through the tulips around my daughter. Poor girl's got her hands full up there," she said gesturing toward the ceiling as David Rossi's deep baritone echoed down the stairs, "with her own living, breathing problem."

"That hurts, Mama," Dave grunted as he stomped down the stairs. "And here I thought that I at least had you on my side."

Pursing her lips, Annie fussed, "Did I hear my little girl actually yell at you to take the cuffs off, young man?"

"You chained Lizzie up and we missed it?" Tommy asked excitedly, his eyes darting from his mother to his brother-in-law.

"Oh, sweet Lord," James moaned, burying his face in his hands.

"Probably not the best idea," Granddaddy mused, shaking his head as he glanced over at the man that had married his favorite granddaughter. "Girl would gnaw her own arm off like a trapped coon if she got mad 'nough."

"Look, your sister was ready to go out and try to draw this jackass out," Dave replied sharply, glaring at the family he had married in to. "I put a stop to it...I don't happen to think any method I use is too excessive if it keeps her safe."

"She..._WHAT?" _ Ray yelled.

"Lower your voice, son," James ordered, slapping his palm against the table. "Ain't nobody here deaf, 'cept Granddaddy, and that he didn't need to hear."

"What?" Granddaddy grunted, squinting as he leaned closer to try and hear what James said.

"Nothing, Pa," James sighed, looking at Dave. "You talked her out of it, I 'spect."

"No," Dave denied, rolling his eyes. "I cuffed her. She tricked me into letting her out to go to the bathroom and locked herself in there." Drawing his eyes together as he watched Tommy hurry toward the kitchen window, he asked, "What are you doing?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Tommy deadpanned, "The rope ladder. A smart man never puts anything past my hardheaded sister."

"She only did that the one time," Mama defended loyally.

"And she nearly broke her full neck that one time," James reminded his wife.

Eyes widening, Dave turned on his heel and hurried toward the staircase. "The whole family's gonna put me in an early grave."

"Maybe not," Tommy said over his shoulder. "Aaron just pulled up," he said, gesturing out the window. "And he looks...happy."

His foot freezing on the first step, Dave looked over his shoulder. "Happy?" he echoed, tossing a worried glance back up the staircase.

"Well," Ray said, joining his brother at the window. "It's been a while since I seen it, but I'm fair to certain that's a smile."

"Could be a grimace," James said around a bite of cold biscuit. "On Aaron, it looks pert near the same," he commented, wincing as Anne's hand connected with the back of his head.

"Grimace or grin, either way it means Aaron's got something to share," Dave replied as he heard his father-in-law grunt. Stepping quickly toward the front door, he spared a second to glance up the staircase. Seeing no movement on the upper landing, he consoled himself with the fact that at least his wife was hopefully tucked into the small bathroom and had no plans of leaving. Not even Lizzie would risk their unborn daughter's life slipping down a flimsy rope ladder…would she?

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Dave reached the front door at the same moment Aaron stepped onto the front porch. And while the boys might not have had the experience in reading the other man's expressions, he had…and he was fairly certain that he was seeing a smile and not a frown.

"I hope what you've come to say is damn good," Rossi snapped as he met Aaron's eyes. "That smile better not be because you've finally let this family drive you to the insane asylum."

"I think I've finally developed an immunity to the craziness that is the Winsteads," Aaron replied drily, arching a brow as he took in the haggard look on his teammate's face. "But you, on the other hand, appear to still be learning that particular talent. Lizzie upset again?"

"Upset is a mild word. She's currently planning my demise because I refused to allow her to become a human target to catch that son of a bitch," Rossi replied, his words tight and succinct as he leaned against the door frame.

His grin growing wider, Hotch shook his dark head as he said, "She was a little late, Dave. It seems that problem has taken care of itself."

"English, Hotch," Rossi growled, wincing as he heard a door slam in the not-so-far distance. "And quickly unless you want an audience for this tete-a-tete."

"I think this is one piece of the case you won't mind sharing with the family at large, Dave," Hotch assured him. "Bartane's down. We got him."

Turning his head slowly to stare into the younger man's eyes, Dave said tightly but evenly, "Say that again?"

"Lizzie's ordeal is over. The local sheriff has the son of a bitch locked up behind three different sets of bars." Hotch let his grin come out fully then as he said, although his eyes hardened. Pulling open the screen door and stepping inside the hallway, he added, "But I don't think the boy's going anywhere. He'll be lucky if he can walk any time over the coming week."

"How the hell did we catch that break so easily?" Dave demanded, barely able to allow himself to believe that their nightmare could have disappeared with such ease. Following Aaron down the short hallway, he shook his head as he attempted to make sense of what had become a topsy-turvy world.


	174. Chapter 174

**Author's Note: Hey, guys! Check out Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum for several stimulating discussions thread. This week the forum shine's the spotlight on our talented fellow author, "What-IfOnly".**

**Also, thanks to everyone reading. If you have a moment, leave a review! We adore hearing from you. Happy Reading!**

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Four**

"Sheriff followed a lead that came in from a neighboring county. Some kids ran across what looked like a deer stand in the woods, surrounded by beer cans. And once they mentioned it to their father, he knew it wasn't deer season, and he wasn't going to have poachers on his land. It just so happens that this law-abiding citizen is a second cousin to the sheriff in Davidson County, who's making a name for himself in arresting as many lawbreakers as he can. He went on a raid. And instead of finding a misguided hunter, he found a drunk and sleeping Bartane, all ready for the plucking."

"I want to see him," Dave bit out, his spine tightening as his hand gripped the wooden banister of the staircase in a white knuckled grip.

"My Lizzie needs a husband, not a jailbird. I ain't gonna see my girl packin' my grandchild up to the state pen to see her daddy on visitin' days, son," James said, walking down the hallway to where the conversation was growing heated.

"It's my right," Dave growled.

"Sure 'nuff," Granddaddy intoned from the kitchen table. "But James is right. Won't no good be served for you to go up their and see that boy. Let the law handle it, son."

"Like they did the last time?" Dave spat, glaring over his shoulder at the two men. "The son of a bitch already avoided paying for his crimes once. It's not going to happen a second time."

"It won't," Hotch said with soft solemnity. "Bartane murdered his last victim, Dave. They found her in a shallow grave about fifty yards from the deer stand. Forensics is already confirming his DNA under her nails and inside her..." Hotch trailed off. Swallowing, he sighed. "And Bartane was drunk when the Sheriff's deputies found him. "He confessed without provocation. It'll stand up in court. He's down for the count. There are at least ten charges of rape, fifteen aggravated assaults and the murder. He's facing the death penalty now, Dave."

"He _should_ be dead," Dave hissed. "And I should have been the one to put the bullet in the bastard's head!"

"And that would have done my Elizabeth what good exactly?" Mama's calm even voice asked. "You think she was under stress before? You think goin' off half-cocked and doin' somethin' you know she's say violated the Good Book would help ease her through her time?"

"Listen to Annie, son," Lizzie's father ordered, his tone holding an underlying ribbon of steel. "As much as it pains me to say, that girl of mine thinks the sun rises and sets in you. So actin' like a jackass won't accomplish nothin' but upsettin' her and her mama."

Dave bit out, "You think avenging my wife would be…."

Holding up his hand, James shook his head as he interrupted his son in law. "Not saying you ain't got the right. Hell, every man in this room, most of all you, has cause to go jerk that son of a bitch limb from limb to make him pay for our Lizzie's horrors."

Picking up where his uncle left off, Aaron nodded as he added, "Uncle James is right, Dave. Lizzie and the baby deserve a future with you in it. Risking that's not worth it." Nailing his long-time friend with a knowing look, he asked, "Is it?"

"Hell, if Dave's not gonna take a piece of Bartane's hide, I'll go do it," Tommy snorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Ain't not a one of you making a move out that door," a clear feminine voice ordered from the top of the stairs, "or I swannee I'll body block you myself," Lizzie said seriously, slowly climbing down the staircase.

"Damn it, woman! Can't you stay where I put you?" Dave growled, hurrying up the steps to reach for his wife's arm.

"_You_ didn't put me in the bathroom, you old fool. I did!" Lizzie blustered. "After I worked my way out of those chains you had on me." Looking at her mother, Lizzie huffed, "Mama, he handcuffed me to the bed! Can you believe that?"

Anne sighed as she met her daughter's miffed expression. "With your Yankee, darlin', there's not much you won't be able to sell me on,"

"Hey, the Yankee isn't the only one that wants blood," Dave yelped, gesturing with one hand to Tommy and Ray, both standing stiffly to the side, identical frowns blanketing their faces.

Slamming both of her hands against her hips, Lizzie demanded sharply, "Tell me what in the name of tarnation is goin' on 'round here or I swanne, I'm a-goin' to start target practicin' on y'all's sorry hides."

Dave shook his head firmly, his eyes easily cataloguing the stress tightening Lizzie's face. "You sit first. There's nothing we'll say that you can't hear with your feet up first."

Glaring at her husband, Lizzie let out an unladylike snort, but allowed him to help her down into the chair her father slid in her direction. "Okay, I'm sitting. Now start talking." Pointing a finger at her husband, she demanded, "And don't you even think about leavin' out anything in order to spare my delicate condition, you hear me?"

"The whole state of Georgia heard you, Sis," Tommy muttered, his arms still crossed over his chest.

"Hell, the poor saps down in the panhandle probably heard her, too," Ray added, his expression identical to his brothers.

Sparing a moment to glare at his brothers-in-law, Dave let out a sigh as he turned back to his wife. "Lizzie, it's good news this time. I promise. Aaron let us know that Bartane's been caught. And he's firmly under lock and key."

"In another county," Aaron added quickly as he watched Lizzie's mouth open in questioning. "And the sheriff in this county's already banded together with his counterpart and asked for help from the federal government this time. There's a federal guard in place. There won't be any chance of escape this time."

Her eyes widening as she let those words sink in, Lizzie gulped as she sank back against the hard slats of the chair. Her eyes met her husband's as she whispered, almost scared to voice the words, "You promise? He's really caught?"

Kneeling down beside her, Dave captured both of her hands in his, noticing how cold her fingers were as he started chaffing her skin. "I promise, babe. Aaron's wouldn't lie. We've finally reached the end."


	175. Chapter 175

**Author's Note: I hope you are enjoying these stories. A big thank you to everyone still reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting. We truly appreciate hearing from each one of you. Swing by Chit Chat on Author's Corner and visit with author of the week, ficdirectory.**

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Five**

"But…but I still have to get up in front of the judge and say he tried to..he tried to…" Lizzie's words broke as she tried to control the raging thoughts in her mind, fear suddenly overwhelming her as she imagined having to face her attacker again.

"T'aint gonna be a trial, Lizzie-Bear," Ray said darkly, his eyes narrowing as he nodded at his sister. "Gonna take care of that son of a bitch afore…"

Interrupting quickly as he saw his wife's face blanch even further, Dave cupped her cheek. "No trial, Lizzie. The bastard confessed. We've got him."

Lips compressing, Lizzie shook her head. "That's the exact same horse hockey that shoveled at us last time. I wanna see him. I wanna see him with my own eyes locked up behind bars like the animal he is."

"No," Dave denied flatly, his face darkening at her suggestion. If he had to move heaven and earth and bribe every elected official in the free world, he would do whatever necessary to keep her from experiencing another second of pain. And he was certain her suggestion would not be anything pleasant whatsoever.

"I'm not gonna believe it unless I see it with my own eyes, Dave. And last I checked, you were my husband, not my keeper."

"Same difference," Tommy offered helpfully from the corner.

"Stay out of this," Lizzie and Dave shouted in unison, their eyes locked in a battle of determined wills.

"You're not going anywhere near him, Elizabeth," Dave's deep voice vowed as he pressed his lips together tightly. "I'm serious."

"So am I," Lizzie retorted, reaching for her water glass and taking a sip. "I'm the body that suffered that man's attacks not once, but twice. If anybody deserves to see for good and for all that he's locked up behind bars, it's me!" she argued valiantly, slamming the glass back to the checker-cloth covered table.

"This doesn't have a damn thing to do with what you deserve," Dave retorted, barely resisting the urge to roar. "If it did, none of us would be here. And you're making my argument for me, woman. That bastard put you in a hospital bed twice. I don't need to find out if third time's a charm."

"Well I'm sorry as a hangin' judge, David, but I've earned the right to see Billy locked up where he can't hurt me, and I'm going," Lizzie replied hotly.

"Lizzie, be reasonable, damn it," Dave growled, catching her arm when she would have risen.

"Never thought I'd find myself agreein' to anything the Yank had to say, but yer man's right, girl," Lizzie's father said plainly, grunting as her mother's elbow landed in his ribs.

"Hell, woman," James exclaimed as he captured his wife's arm before she could inflict additional damage. "What was that for?"

"For acting like an overbearin' fool," Anne shot back, arching a brow as she pulled her arm away and propped both hands on her hips. Turning to face her daughter, she met Lizzie's blazing eyes as she said, calmly, "You really feel like you have to do this, baby girl?"

"I really do, Mama," Lizzie replied, her tone tight but controlled.

Turning to stare in absolute shock at his mother-in-law, Dave let out a groan as he demanded, "Oh, hell no. Surely you, of all people, see the foolishness in this, Anne."

Anne Winstead pointed at her husband, then her son-in-law, as she ordered, "You and you both owe the cussin' box five dollars each. And I'll thank you to remember that I know our daughter as well as any of you, if not better." Turning to face Dave, she said determinedly, "You may be her husband of just a year, but surely you've learned a few things about my Lizzie in that time. She makes up her own mind."

Nodding, Lizzie propped her hands in a perfect imitation of her mother's as she added, her tone just as stern, "And none of y'all were the ones that pathetic excuse for a man attacked. It was me. And I ain't gonna settle until I know he's never gonna be able to hurt me or my baby again."

"You're crazy. And it's hereditary," Dave said in amazement with a frown at Lizzie's mother. "Do something!" he ordered Elizabeth's father, glancing toward James for some form of support. "Ground them both or something."

Shaking her head at her son-in-law's summation, Anne said, "Ain't you ever heard not to close the lid on the coffin til you make sure the body's good and dead...soul departed to the hereafter?"

"Huh?" Dave yelped.

Seeing the furious flush beginning to climb his aunt's cheeks, Hotch interceded. "I think what Aunt Anne is trying to say is that Lizzie can't really feel like she has any closure until she sees for herself that Bartane is truly incarcerated, Dave. Right, Aunt Anne?" Hotch asked, darting his eyes toward the Winstead matriarch.

"That's what I said, ain't it?" Anne asked, throwing her hands up.

"No good can come from Lizzie confronting that bastard," Dave growled.

"I'll tell you what good comes from it," Lizzie bit out, jerking to her feet and jabbing her finger into her husband's chest. "That boy is slippery as a greased pig in July! He done slipped through that blasted cracks not just once, but twice by my count. I'm goin' to see if he's well and truly trussed up like a holiday turkey! It's my right! Don't victims get the right to face their attackers or something?" she asked Aaron, her tone all but daring him to deny her.

"Well," Hotch replied slowly, "Usually that occurs in a court of law, but yes, they do."

"Well, then." Lizzie nodded, planting her hands on her hips as she faced her husband. "I'm invoking my rights."

"And I'm invoking my responsibility as your husband and the father of that baby," Dave countered, pointing at his wife's rounded stomach, "to keep you both safe. I made a vow to do just that, woman, and I intend to follow through."

"Well, then, lucky for me that I didn't promise to obey in my vows," Lizzie huffed, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared at her husband.

Tommy's snort rent the air then. "Yeah, you ain't known for your obedience training, Lizzie Bear."

"I ain't no trained pup that acts on command, and I'll thank ALL of you to remember that!" Lizzie declared, moving toward the doorway that she had just walked through mere minutes earlier.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Dave thundered, reaching out to grab his wife's thin arm.

Frowning as she tried to break away from her husband's strong grip, Lizzie answered, "I'm going to find my shoes. And then, I'm gonna be inspectin' the county jail." Glaring, she added, her tone ominous, "With OR without you, Dave."

Jaw dropping as his wife angrily snatched her arm away, Dave could only stare in amazement as Elizabeth stormed back up the stairs, her muttered litany of his sins trailing after her. Looking around the room at her gathered family, he glared at each of them. "I want to thank you _all_ so very much for your support. Am I the only one here that has an ounce of sanity left?"

"She needs to do this, Dave," Anne sighed, wincing as a door slammed above stairs. "She won't be able to rest until she sees for herself that ain't no way that monster's ever gettin out of the closet again."

"As much as I hate to agree with my wife," James offered, still rubbing his sore side, "She _is_ right. That daughter of mine has a stubborn streak a mile wide. She'll be getting' to that jail with or without you. I'd prefer the "with" myself, son."

"Of course it'll be _with_ me," Dave snarled, rubbing a shaking hand over his tense jaw. "You think I'd let her face that bastard without me standing right there?"

"All right," Anne said, nodding once as she reached for the tie on her apron, "I'm gonna let that curse slide on account of how true it is, but you aren't gonna help matters by getting her any more riled up than she already is. Take her down there and show her that she doesn't have anything left to be afraid of. Then, maybe, she can begin to move on."

Pressing his lips together, Dave inhaled deeply as he stared at the ceiling and silently counted to ten. "Fine," he finally ground out. "But, I want that little fucker in chains, Aaron. Preferably with a gag in his mouth. We're in and out of there in five minutes. Any more than that and I swear that I'll kill him myself."


	176. Chapter 176

_Author's Note: Okay, first, thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting our stories. We truly appreciate your comments._

_Second, we want to offer you a quick rundown of activities and threads that are ongoing at the forum:_

_First, we have opened our next challenge to participants. "The Future Fic Challenge" thread is open on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. Rules and explanation of the challenge are there as well. In short, choose one character and get assigned a random secondary character to tell a story set in the year 2022. It looks like a lot of fun._

_We've also introduced a "Help Wanted" thread to the forum for authors that are looking for assistance with various writing complications that come up. Perhaps you want someone to bounce ideas with, or maybe you need a beta….this is the place to post an ad for what you are looking for. We've also reopened the "Chat Chat Among the Authors" thread to discuss spoilers or ask questions. The "Getting to Know YOU…Tell us about yourself" thread is open. Swing by there to introduce yourself whether you are a reader or an author. We'd love to meet you._

_And lastly don't forget our "Pay It forward Review Incentive Program". From now until the end of April, anyone that reviews a Hotch related story is eligible to win an gift card. Details found on thread at forum._

_This week's author of the week is the talented klcm. Please swing by that thread to ask questions about their writing and/or stories. In addition, there are several other threads open for comment. We hope to see each of you there._

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred Seventy Six**

A mere thirty minutes later, Dave found himself once again wondering exactly how his wife and half her family had managed to convince him that this ill-fated trip was anything other than the fiasco it was sure to be. Frowning as he felt Lizzie's hand tighten around his, he stopped as they reached the old-fashioned front porch of the county jail, gently tugging his wife back against him.

Turning slightly as she realized that she wasn't able to move any further, Lizzie looked up into her husband's flashing eyes. And she didn't need any marriage counselor to tell her what was on his mind. He had been extremely clear about his thoughts the entire ride to the jail. "Dave," she started, propping her free hand on her hip, "Don't think you're going to…"

"Give me just a minute, Elizabeth," Dave ordered softly, staring down into her green eyes. "You've got to promise me that you'll do exactly what we tell you do once we get inside." Nodding over her shoulder at Hotch, he added, "No deviation from the plan. You're in and you're out. You don't say a word."

"I'm not exactly plannin' to have afternoon tea and carry on a conversation, Dave," Lizzie retorted, exasperation in her voice. "I heard every darned thing you said in the car ride, thank you very much. I don't need to be treated like a citified hothouse flower!"

"What you need is a keeper," Dave growled, reluctantly allowing himself to be pulled forward. As Hotch opened the glass door to the station, Dave muttered, "Not gonna forget you agreed with her on this, man."

"I didn't exactly agree, Dave," Hotch said evenly, meeting his long-time friend's eyes as they stepped into the foyer. "I just know Lizzie, and I know she won't settle to be left in the dark when she might be able to find answers she needs."

"What I need right now, boys," Lizzie snapped as she glared over her shoulder, "Is to get this done and over with. And if you two will quit whispering like little schoolgirls, we'll be done in two shakes of a lambs tail."

Dave tightened his fingers around hers as he nodded at the sheriff, who was headed in their direction. Mentally offering up a quick thank you for Hotch's foresight in working out the details with the older lawman, he muttered in Lizzie's ear, "One last chance, babe. You don't have to do this."

"Yeah, I do, Dave," Lizzie whispered back, her voice serious as she reached up and cupped his whiskered cheek. "Let me do this. If I don't, I'll always worry and…"

Hearing the rising anxiousness in her voice, Dave pressed a finger to her lips. "I get it, babe." Letting out a sigh, he met the Sheriff's eyes as he said gruffly, "Let get it over with, Sheriff."

A minute later, Lizzie let out a deep breath as she stepped into the short hallway that opened up into a wider corridor lined with barred cells. She felt Dave's strong presence right behind her, knowing that he wouldn't be more than a half-step away. Her heart beat faster in her chest as she kept her eyes straight ahead, her footsteps almost mechanical as she followed the sheriff. Tuning out all the sounds around her, she pressed her free hand to her rounded stomach, wanting to shield her daughter from what her momma had to do. Feeling her fears start to slide back into her mind, she raised her chin as she mentally chastised herself. One more step, she told herself. One more step, and then you will be on the downward ride.

But that last step suddenly came up short as the Sheriff stopped suddenly in front of her. She felt as much as saw the change around them . Confused, she asked, looking around at the three men, "What's wrong? Why aren't we…"

"You need to get the little lady out of here now, boys," the Sheriff ordered, hitching his belt up as he glanced back at Dave and Hotch.

"Why? What's happened?" Lizzie demanded, swatting at Dave's hand as he tried to pull her back.

Taller than Lizzie, Dave could see the reason for the Sheriff's hesitation. Hands manacling to his wife's hips, Dave pulled her behind him, shielding her from the gruesome sight beyond the iron bars separating them from the earthly remains of Billy Bartane. "He's dead, Lizzie," Dave said, his voice low and blunt.

Staring blankly up into her husband's face, she blinked slowly. "What?"

"Bartane is dead, Elizabeth," Dave repeated, glancing over his shoulder as the Sheriff opened the cell, the door sliding open with a dull screech. Gently moving her to the side as Hotch brushed past them, he murmured, "There's no one in there you need to see anymore. It's over."

"Oh, I'm gonna see his hangin' carcass," Lizzie replied obstinately, trying to get past her husband.

"Honey," Dave shook his head, moving quickly to block her path.

"_Move!_" Lizzie demanded, both eyes narrowing as she glared at her husband. "If'n he's really sittin' at the right hand of the Devil, I got nothin' to worry about, do I?"

Releasing a heavy breath, he dropped his hand, his wife darting around his side with the speed of light. Turning he watched her skid to a halt just outside the cell door, her eyes rounded as she stared at the body of the man who'd tortured, raped and nearly killed her.

"You yellow bellied coward! Just like a weasel," she yelled, the words echoing in the small confined space. "Couldn't be bothered to face the consequences for what you did, could you?" she yelled at the lifeless corpse still swinging from the belt he'd used to hang himself.

Eyeing Bartane's bruised neck, the Sheriff shook his head. "If it's any consolation, Lizzie, it don't look like he went easy."

"It ain't," Lizzie spat indignantly, facing the Sheriff with reddened cheeks, her hands propped on her hips. "How'd ya'll let 'im get off this easy? He was supposed to rot in jail from now to the Second Coming!"

"Well, darlin', he's burnin' in hell now," the Sheriff said grimly with one last look at the body.

Watching as the flush deepened on his wife's cheeks, Dave thought he might finally understand the meaning of the turn of phrase, "madder than a wet hen". Lizzie was certainly doing an amazing impression of one...hopping from foot to foot as she continued to squawk at the top of her lungs, cursing Bartane...cursing the general ineptitude and inefficiency of the police force and the jail cell layout.

She was without a doubt working herself toward a fine fury.

"Babe," Dave murmured, snagging the back of her dress and tugging her backward when it appeared she was debating taking a swing at the bastard's lifeless body, "It's over," he said quietly against her ear. "He can't hurt you anymore."

"But...this was just too easy for him," she said, throwing a frustrated arm toward the body. "He didn't suffer...he didn't pay."

"And we both know that isn't true, honey," Dave soothed, wrapping his arms around her waist as he angled her toward the open cell doors. "He'll be paying for eternity."

"Ain't long enough," Lizzie's disgruntled voice denied as she allowed herself to be hustled from the small iron box that was supposed to have contained her tormenter. "Not nearly."

"How about we agree to let it be enough for right now and we'll take it up again at a later date?" Dave offered gamely as he continued moving them both to safer ground. If he knew his wife, and he did, as soon as the adrenaline rush left her and she started to come down from the emotional high, she was bound to crash. And he preferred that she be in a much safer place than the county jail when that happened.

"Don't patronize me, David," Lizzie snorted as she swatted at his hand as they stepped out into the small foyer. "I wanna exercise my rights as an American citizen. I want justice, you hear me?"

"The whole state of Georgia hears you, like usual, Lizzie Bear," Aaron declared as he came up behind them. "And I think this might be the best justice you could have asked for. This way, you don't have to worry about him ever hurting you again."

"But I didn't get to say my peace! That bastard took the coward's way out, that's what happened," Lizzie ranted as she drew in a deep breath, fanning her hand in front of her flushed face. "Somebody owes me on this one, and as sure as God made little green apples, I'll be a-collectin'."

"I'm sure you will, babe," Dave agreed, urging his agitated wife down the cement corridor and toward the door, "but, until then, let's just get you home."


	177. Chapter 177

**_Author's Note: Okay, first, thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting our stories. We truly appreciate your comments._**

**_First, we want to offer you a quick rundown of activities and threads that are ongoing at the forum:_**

**_We've also introduced a "Help Wanted" thread to the forum for authors that are looking for assistance with various writing complications that come up. Perhaps you want someone to bounce ideas with, or maybe you need a beta….this is the place to post an ad for what you are looking for. We've also reopened the "Chat Chat Among the Authors" thread to discuss spoilers or ask questions. The "Getting to Know YOU…Tell us about yourself" thread is open. Swing by there to introduce yourself whether you are a reader or an author. We'd love to meet you._**

**_And lastly don't forget our "Pay It forward Review Incentive Program". From now until the end of MAY, anyone that reviews a ROMANCE related story is eligible to win an gift card. Details found on thread at forum._**

**_This week's author of the week is the talented Bren Gail. Please swing by that thread to ask questions about their writing and/or stories. In addition, there are several other threads open for comment. We hope to see each of you there._**

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred Seventy Seven**

Three hours later, Lizzie Rossi was calmer, but no less angry regarding the sudden turn of events. Staring sullenly across the fields as her toe prodded the wooden porch, sending the porch swing swaying slowly, she ignored her husband as he slid into the seat beside her.

"You know, you can't blame me for this one, honey. I didn't string him up," Dave noted softly, sliding his arm across the back of the swing and pulling his wife closer. "As much as I would have enjoyed it, I'm innocent."

"I know that." Lizzie sighed as a warm breeze blew across them, rustling the dried leaves against the plywood slats of the porch. "It just burns my bacon that he got off as easy as he did. I mean, I know he's facin' the the Devil's fiery pit right now, but still...I'd have liked to be the one to send him down there."

"You know, the Stones had a song that said, you can't always get what you want, but sometimes you get what you need," Dave remarked philosophically, pressing a kiss into his wife's hair.

Lifting her head to glare at her husband, Lizzie shook her head, her red locks falling over her shoulders. "Dave, I love you, but now ain't one of those times to quote me a bunch of horse hockey, understand?"

"I do." Dave nodded gravely. "But this isn't horse...whatever you call it. I know you wanted to face Bartane one last time and let him know that he hadn't won. But, maybe some higher power knew that you didn't _need_ to do that."

"Hmmmphh," Lizzie snorted, crossing her arms over her chest even as she leaned closer to her husband, settling into his side. "Well, then, what exactly is it you and this higher power think that I do need?"

"Well, I'm not sure about the higher power, but I personally think you and I need to go home," Dave said softly, gently cupping his hand around her shoulder.

"We are home," Lizzie replied absently, her delicate face still pinched in irritation.

"Not here, Lizzie. _Our_ home," Dave clarified, shaking his head.

Lizzie slowly turned to face her husband as she pressed her hand against the swell of her stomach. "You mean Little Creek?"

Nodding as he caught the sudden spark of light in her green eyes, Dave smiled down at her. "I'm afraid our house might have forgotten who we are and let other owners move in."

"Not on my watch," Lizzie retorted immediately, frowning at that thought.

Covering her hand with his, Dave stroked his thumb against her fingers as he added, "And after all, our little girl is going to need a nursery. We're going to need some time to get a crib and stuff before she makes her appearance."

"Is that a bribe in order to get me to leave my mama?" Lizzie asked shrewdly as she unconsciously moved even closer to him, her body seeking the warmth of his.

"Your mother is welcome in our home whenever she wants," Dave assured his wife, dropping a kiss to her abundant curls. Pushing his foot against the wooden plank floor, he set the swing into motion as he added with a grin, "Hell, we've got more than enough room, babe, for the entire crazy lot to show up."

"Watch that your words to run to far ahead of your mouth, Rossi," Lizzie warned sternly, swatting at his arm. "I don't put it past Mama to up and move, lock, stock and barrel until after the baby is born. In my family you got to prove you know better than to throw the baby out with the bath water."

Cuddling her closer to his side, Dave murmured against her ear, "You'll be a wonderful mother, Elizabeth."

"Uh huh," Lizzie grunted, squinting as she stared out over the yard once again. "Convince my mama of that."

"I won't have to. You will." Dave smiled against her temple as his hand unerringly found the swell of their daughter underneath her shirt. "Besides, you and I need to remember what being an 'us' feels like before we add our little girl in the mix, don't you think?"

Lizzie couldn't deny that his idea had merit. As much as she adored her family and as close as they all were, reconnecting with her husband after months apart under the strains she'd been experiencing the past month, first with Bartane, then with her daddy's heart condition, then again with Bartane...it didn't leave a whole lot of spare time lying around to just relax in her husband's arms. And she missed that. More desperately than she wanted to admit. "I reckon with Bartane dead and Daddy on the mend, there's no reason we _couldn't_ go home," she said hesitantly, privately worried that nothing in the big house that she called home would ever feel the same again.

"We can go anywhere you want. I took a sabbatical until the end of the year after the baby is born. It gives us some time to decide if the Bureau is what we want for our family. My only requirement is that we're together, Elizabeth. And, honest to God, I don't think I'm letting you out of my sight again until this kid is grown," he warned, his hand curving possessively around her abdomen.

"You're not going back to the FBI until after the baby gets here?" Lizzie gasped as his words penetrated, shifting suddenly to stare up at him with wide eyes.

"I agreed to consult if a case was close to home, but otherwise, no. I'd rather be with you and Junior," Dave replied, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "Babe, in case you missed it, I'm a rich man. Neither one of us ever have to work another day in our life if we don't want to."

"Hush your mouth," Lizzie muttered, slapping his chest with the back of her hand. "Idle hands lead to the devil's work. You've got to do _something_." Catching the glimmer in his eyes as he smiled, she shook her head. "And that _ain't_ what I'm talkin' bout either, Smut for Brains."

"Damn," Dave said, snapping his fingers. Sobering, he pulled Lizzie against him. "I can work on my next book in the down time, Lizzie. There's plenty to keep me occupied."

"You love the Bureau," Lizzie muttered, staring at the rose bushes in front of the porch.

"I love you and the baby more. Let's just see how it goes for awhile. Who knows? You may decide that living down here is what you want after the baby arrives. Anything could happen. Let's just go home and get ready for our daughter's arrival. After she gets here, we can reassess if you want to. Just tell me we can go home for now."

Nodding slowly, Lizze swallowed. "I...I reckon we could try," she whispered.

"Try?" Dave echoed, frowning down at her bent head.

"Dave, I know you and I have worked through most of our differences about what separated us, but that house holds a skad of painful memories. Especially that last day. I'm not sure..."

"Lizzie," Dave whispered, tightening his arms around her shoulders, "that house holds a hell of a lot more good memories for us. It's where we created our child. It's where I fell in love with you. Trust me, honey, if you'll just let it, you'll see the good outweighs the bad by a landslide. You're just blocking that part out right now."

Exhaling slowly, Lizzie looked up into his dark eyes...eyes she couldn't say no to. "All right, Dave. We'll try it your way."

"And if it doesn't work, I'll be more than happy to do things yours. Just give it a chance to feel like home again, babe. That's all I'm asking."

Nodding, Lizzie settled against her husband and watched the Georgia sun recede into the distance one last time.

* * *

_**Guys, I'd appreciate any feedback you could offer. For those that have time, please pop off a review. For those that don't, thank you all for reading!**_


	178. Chapter 178

**_Author's Note: Okay, first, thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting our stories. We truly appreciate your comments._**

**_First, we want to offer you a quick rundown of activities and threads that are ongoing at the forum:_**

**_We've also introduced a "Help Wanted" thread to the forum for authors that are looking for assistance with various writing complications that come up. Perhaps you want someone to bounce ideas with, or maybe you need a beta….this is the place to post an ad for what you are looking for. We've also reopened the "Chat Chat Among the Authors" thread to discuss spoilers or ask questions. The "Getting to Know YOU…Tell us about yourself" thread is open. Swing by there to introduce yourself whether you are a reader or an author. We'd love to meet you._**

**_And lastly don't forget our "Pay It forward Review Incentive Program". From now until the end of MAY, anyone that reviews a ROMANCE related story is eligible to win an gift card. Details found on thread at forum._**

**_This week's author of the week is the talented pandorabox82. Please swing by that thread to ask questions about their writing and/or stories. In addition, there are several other threads open for comment. We hope to see each of you there._**

**_Oh! And skip on over to the forum and sign up for our "Challenge Within A Challenge" fic writing exercise! We'd love to have each of you to participate!_**

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Eight**

If anyone had told Elizabeth Winstead Rossi that she would have been absolutely thrilled to see home that she had only lived in for just a few months, she would have accused them of taking one too many sips from her grandfather's moonshine stash. And yet, here she was, almost giddy over the fact that she was once again back in the home that she was afraid she might never see again.

Smiling widely as she stepped into the sunlit bedroom that had been their oasis many a time, Lizzie let out a sigh of relief as she watched her husband place their suitcases on the bed at their home in Little Creek. "Have I told you how much I missed this room?" she asked as he turned back toward her.

Grinning, Dave dropped a kiss to her waiting lips. "Oh, just about a few hundred times on the plane ride back alone." Dropping his hand to the bulge that was their daughter, he asked, "And the little one? She's still okay after the trip?"

Rolling her eyes at her husband's overly protective tone, Lizzie swatted his hand away as she marched toward the bed, quickly unzipping each bag and flipping items out. "Our daughter's just peachy, just like her mama. I told you that I'm not a hothouse flower, Dave, and I believe my doctor gave me a clean bill of health, remember?" Throwing a shirt over her shoulder, she added, casting her eyes quickly in his direction, "Would you get me the hamper out of the bath? I've got a mess of laundry to get done before night falls and best to start now."

"Look, Elizabeth," Dave said, forcing himself to use a modicum of patience in his voice, "We've already had this discussion. After the trip we've had today, you promised to spend the rest of the day in bed. What part of "in bed" are you having a problem understanding?"

"Don't use that tone with me, mister," Lizzie warned as she narrowed her eyes at him, one hand still pulling clothes out of the suitcase that was lying on edge of their bed. "The laundry's not gonna do itself, you know. And my Mama would die a death of Sundays if she thought I had dirty clothes just lyin' around willy-nilly everywhere."

Reaching out to pull a shirt from her busy hands, Dave countered, "Your mother is on my side, remember? I believe her parting instructions before we left Georgia were for me to make sure that you didn't over-exert yourself. I heard the warning in her voice, Lizzie. She wasn't kidding. And neither am I."

"Oh, pooh. Mama was just being a teensy bit overprotective. Besides, she needed to put the fear of God in you before she let me return back to Northern Territory with a Yankee." Pulling the garment out of his hands without much trouble, Lizzie easily turned on her heel and headed toward the nearby connected bathroom. Calling over her shoulder, she ordered, "Grab that bag, Dave. I need to throw the entire thing in the wash. Then there's the matter of airing out the comforter. Honestly, I think there's an inch of dust over everything in here!"

Muttering under his breath, Dave caught her arm before she could take another step. And seconds later, Elizabeth Rossi found herself planted firmly in the center of the king-sized bed that she had shared with her husband many times, staring up at him in open mouthed shock. "I don't know what's got you doin' your best imitation of a caveman, David," Elizabeth said, narrowing her eyes on the man looming above her, "but you best step lively and understand that I carry a club of my own."

Silently counting to ten, Dave prayed for the patience and mental fortitude to withstand the death glare shooting from his wife's eyes. He'd seen that stubborn set of her face before...numerous times. And it never boded well for him. Of course, this time he had more reason than ever to stand his ground. "Elizabeth," he said slowly, "you wouldn't want to be accused of lying to me, would you?"

"Lyin'?" Lizzie huffed indignantly as she tried to push up. "I have not!"

"We agreed that you'd take it easy once we got home. Cleaning the house in one whirlwind afternoon is not conducive to that, now, is it?"

"Oh, fiddle," Lizzie muttered, wrinkling her nose as she crossed her arms over her chest and flopped back against the pillows. "You're bein' silly. Ain't no way knockin' the dust off this furniture and doin' a few loads of laundry is gonna tire me out."

"The doctors agreed that you shouldn't overexert yourself," Dave reminded her, more than prepared to use any and all ammunition in his stockpile to protect her and his child.

"Dave, if you had your way, I wouldn't lift anything heavier than a feather until our little girl is five years old," she retorted, rolling her eyes as she managed to simultaneously glare in his direction. "All those sawbones have already told you that I'm fine!" she declared impatiently.

"They agreed that you were on the mend. I never heard one of them say you were fine," Dave countered, shaking his head.

"Then maybe it's time for you to get that hearing aide," Lizzie replied archly. "Cause I'm fair to certain you've gone _deaf_."

Rubbing his hand over his jaw, Dave had to ask himself how he had managed to forget in just a few months how obstinate his wife could be. Letting out a sigh, he asked, his words measured, "Do you really want to spend our first day back in our home arguing, babe?"

"I'm not arguing, Dave," Lizzie pointed out as she smacked his shoulder, pushing him backwards as she attempted to slide around him. "I'm stating a fact. It's you who's acting like the jackass that Granddaddy used to have. That foolish animal would hee when Granddaddy said haw just to spite him!"

"We've been home less than half an hour and she's already making animal references," Dave moaned, closing his eyes as he rubbed his forehead.

God help them all.

* * *

_**Guys, I'd appreciate any feedback you could offer. For those that have time, please pop off a review. For those that don't, thank you all for reading!**_


	179. Chapter 179

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* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Nine**

Grinning widely, Lizzie took advantage of his closed eyes to throw her legs around him and scoot to the edge of the bed. She could see the edge of the laundry basket, and she just knew she could have it in her grasp in just a few seconds.

Of course, she had forgotten one thing. Her husband had amazingly quick reflexes for an old man.

"Not so quick, woman," Dave muttered in her ear as he hauled his almost-escaped wife back against him, wrapping his arm around her rounded belly.

Huffing loudly, Lizzie swatted at his arm again as she growled, "Not this again. You actin' like a caveman ev'rytime I think of doing a single darned thing is just not gonna do, David Rossi. I'm pregnant, not sick. In case you missed it, havin' our daughter ain't a terminal condition."

Rolling his eyes as he tucked her squirming body tighter against him, Dave grinned. "Did you ever consider the fact that maybe I just want to spend time with my wife before our daughter arrives? From what I hear, we're not exactly going to have loads of free time like this once she gets here. You'll appreciate resting, trust me."

"Pishposh." Lizzie pushed against his leg as she turned in his arms. "I'll be able to handle that little bundle and still do everything else. My mama and my granny were able to raise families and run farms without breaking a sweat. They could run circles 'round everyone else, and I ain't gonna be no different."

"And I wonder what your father and grandfather would have said about all of that," Dave retorted as he dropped his hands to her hips. "I'm sure they would have appreciated some time with their wives, you know."

"Maybe. Maybe not," Lizzie retorted as she shrugged, wriggling as she attempted to once again plan her escape. "But both of 'em had the good sense to stay out of the way once a body had made her mind up. Honestly, Dave, this worry wart business is fixin' to stomp down on my last nerve," she warned.

"You're right," Dave said decisively. "I _am_ worried. I've just gotten you back, Elizabeth. I almost lost you. _Twice_," he emphasized, waving two fingers in front of her nose. "Is it _really_ too much to ask that you just spend today relaxing with me?"

Raising one eyebrow, Lizzie pursed her lips. "I don't know. Are you gonna spend it bein' the Yankee equivalent to Ghengis Khan?"

"I am not a barbarian," Dave retorted, rolling his own dark eyes.

"Couldn't prove it by me," Lizzie retorted hotly, smacking at the hand he still had held in front of her.

"Okay, sweetheart," Dave sighed, rolling to pull them both against the pillows. "Let's negotiate," he offered reasonably, reaching out a hand to push her hair behind her ear.

"I don't negotiate with terrorist husbands determined to drive me round the bed," Lizzie growled.

"How 'bout husbands that just want to make sure that his wife and baby aren't overdoing it?" Dave queried softly.

Her shoulders sagged as his deep voice found its target. "What's your offer, husband?" she asked reluctantly.

David Rossi was not a dumb man, despite what his wife was obviously thinking. He had not gotten this far in life without recognizing an opportunity when it presented itself. And he was just enough of a gambler to know when to open the stakes high and negotiate his way down to where he would be willing to settle.

"How about we start with you staying on bed rest for the rest of the week and then…."

"Oh, no," Elizabeth interrupted, swatting at his arm as she struggled to pull up straight in the bed. "I can't be lollygagging, no matter what fancy words you use to try to convince me otherwise."

Capturing her offending hand, Dave kissed her fingertips as he said, "Hear me out, babe. Then what if you take it easy today and tomorrow, then we'll see how you're feeling?" Seeing her mouth open, he pressed a quick finger to her lips as he added, "And I believe that Penelope and JJ said something about wanting to come over tomorrow if you're up to it."

Pursing her lips as she narrowed her eyes, Lizzie let out a huff. "I know there's something sneaky about this little plan of yours, I just can't see it yet. I ain't much for buying a pig in a poke, so you best be puttin' all your cards on the table, buster."

"All that I'm betting on is that you'll be well-rested and that our daughter has a safe and happy place to grow inside her Mama," Dave replied truthfully as he shifted his wife in his arms, rubbing his hand against her belly.

Lizzie let out a small gasp just then, and Dave asked sharply, "What's wrong?"

Capturing his hand again, she pressed it back to her stomach. "You didn't feel it? She moved again when we were talking about her."

Concentrating on the bulge beneath his hand, Dave held his breath as he felt a tiny flutter against the inside of his palm. Eyes widening, he breathed, "Did she..."

"Uh huh!" Lizzie nodded excitedly as her own hand tightened around his. "Our baby is moving!" she replied, blinking back tears of amazement.

"Does it hurt?" Dave asked automatically, willing the small being inside to kick again.

"Nuh uh." Lizzie shook her head quickly. "I don't know how to explain it. It feels wonderful." Turning her face up to Dave's, she whispered, "Almost like a miracle."

"All things considered, this little peanut is a miracle, Lizzie," Dave replied with a smile. "A precious miracle. One that I'm determined to protect," he added pointedly.

Nodding, Lizzie stared down at her belly. "I think she's gone back to sleep," she murmured, mildly disappointed.

"Maybe you should take a cue from our daughter then," Dave suggested, curling his body around his wife's. "Evidently, she's already smarter than both her parents put together."

Relaxing in her husband's embrace, Lizzie rolled to her side to face him. "I don't think I appreciate the way you keep finagling things to get your own way. I'm on to your tricks now, Dave," she said, jabbing his chest with her fingers gently.

"You act like I've been trying to launch a sneak attack, babe." Dave grinned, obviously unrepentant. "I don't think it's any secret that if I had my way, I'd wrap you in cotton and put you in a padded room until our daughter's debut."

"Try that," Lizzie invited sweetly, her flashing eyes belying the tone in her voice. "You aren't the only one that knows how to be as slippery as a fish lookin' to get off the hook."

"You know how I love a good challenge," Dave replied evenly, dropping his head to press a kiss to her upturned lips.


	180. Chapter 180

**FORUM NEWS: Several fun things going on NOW on the Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum on !**

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* * *

**Thank you to everyone that has taken the time to read, review, favorite and alert our stories here on this site. We truly enjoy hearing from each one of you. Also, please check out our "M" stories at The Writers Coffee Shop (TWCS). If anyone needs a link or direction to the new site, please feel free to contact us through either a private message or while leaving a review and we'll make sure to get back to you. Each former "M" story is getting an overhaul as we publish it AND there are new stories being added all the time there as well. Currently we are added "**_**FREEDOM OF A NEW EXPERIENCE". **_**Again, we'll be happy to answer any questions you have. As always, we own nothing other than our plots and original characters. Now, on with the story…**

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred Eighty**

Catching the back of his neck when he would have pulled away, Elizabeth stared into her husband's eyes. "You know," she said slowly, her voice low, "if you want me to stay in this bed without an argument, there are sweeter things you could do to keep me here."

Hearing the intent behind her words, Dave felt his body tighten in automatic response. "Sweetheart," he said huskily, "you know how much I love you, but I'm not sure..."

"It's been three weeks, Dave," Lizzie returned softly. "The doctors have all assured us that both me and the baby are fine. We've got to climb back up on the horse sometime."

"You're still having nightmares, Elizabeth," Dave countered, sliding a soothing hand over her hip. God, how he wanted her. But he'd be damned if he allowed himself to do something she wasn't ready for.

"About him, Dave. Not you," Lizzie declared. "And don't you think some of those dreams might fade away if I had more pleasant memories to replace them with?" she asked, sliding one slim hand down his chest.

He couldn't deny that her theory had merit. A whole lot of merit, he thought as her hand wandered lower, her fingertips brushing the evidence of his arousal. Hissing in a sharp breath as her lips found his neck, pressing a gentle kiss there, Dave groaned. "Honey, as much as I love where you're going with this, I'm not sure..."

"I'm sure enough for both of us. My daddy always said if you fall off the horse, you ain't got much choice but to climb astride him again," Lizzie whispered as she smiled, gently pushing her husband to his back as she rolled on top of him, "less'n you wanted to walk all the miles of your life."

"As much as I appreciate your family's special brand of wisdom," Dave replied tightly, his hands finding purchase on her hips, "I'm pretty sure he wasn't thinking about _this_ when he imparted it."

Reaching for the buttons of Dave's shirt, Lizzie shook her head. "Don't make no nevermind," she replied, her nimble fingers freeing the material from his body, "I think even you have to agree the lesson applies here." Meeting his dark eyes, Lizzie whispered, "Please, Dave? Can't we at least try?"

Seeing the insecurity shining in her eyes as she stared down at him, he knew she'd already won this battle. Cupping a hand against her still bruised cheek, Dave murmured, "Come here, Elizabeth."

Bending her head, she met his lips for a slow, tentative kiss, each of them nervous of the other. Sighing as she felt his tongue gently stroke her lower lip, she moaned softly against his mouth.

Sliding an arm around her waist as Lizzie's supple body settled above his, Dave slowly felt her relax in his embrace. Tracing his tongue along the seam of his lips, he advanced as her lips parted, kissing her deeply as she seemed to sink into him. Forcing himself to rein in his libido, he was determined to allow her to set the pace.

Dragging his hand up her back, he buried a hand in her auburn hair as her lips pressed against his. Feeling her body shift against his restlessly, he smiled against her lips as she made an impatient noise against his lips.

Lifting her head, Lizzie frowned down at her tangled skirt, tugging it up around her waist. "You could help me a little here," she complained as Dave chuckled softly.

"Oh, I think you're doing just fine, sweetheart," Dave replied, lifting a hand to caress her flushed cheek.

"Well, as I recall this is a whole lot more fun when you cooperate," Lizzie grumbled, bracing her hands against her husband's broad chest as she glared down at him.

"I am cooperating," Dave returned evenly. "I'm just letting you run the show. Or was that not you that has been complaining about the raving dictator I've become? I'm just trying to be more accommodating."

Narrowing her eyes, Lizzie shook her head. "Fine." She nodded. "I guess it's time for me to turn up the heat and see if I can't tempt you into action," she purred, quickly pulling her sweater over her head. Tossing the sweater to the floor, she held his gaze as she slowly reached for the clasp of her bra.

Unable to tear his eyes away as the satin bra fell down her shoulders, Dave groaned.

"Still feelin' accommodatin', Dave," Lizzie whispered seductively, lifting her hands to cup her own full breasts.

"God," Dave rasped as he watched her thumbs brush her nipples, watching raptly as the peaks hardened before his eyes.

"Because if you are, I guess I could take care of things myself. It would be awful lonely, but..." Lizzie drawled, gasping as she felt her body suddenly rolled to her back, her husband's heavy body looming over hers. Raising an eyebrow, she tried not to smirk. "You are incredibly easy to manage," she whispered, looping her arms around his neck.

"I just don't want you to be lonely." Dave winked, dropping his head to press a warm kiss to Lizzie's throat. Moving his lips down her neck, he found her heavy breast again, stroking her flesh reverently as he took one peak between his lips.

Feeling the erotic tug of his mouth working against her, Lizzie felt her core clench with need. "Dave," she breathed, her fingers burying in his dark hair as his tongue lapped against her. "Don't stop," she whined when his head lifted a second later.

"So, you're finally willing to play by my rules, huh?" Dave grinned, shrugging out of his shirt before reaching for the side zipper on her skirt.

Lifting her hips, Elizabeth smiled as the filmy material slid down her legs, leaving her in only a pair of satin panties. "Only in this," she returned pertly, rolling onto her side and propping her head on her hand as she watched her husband rise and shuck his jeans before climbing back in bed beside her.

"Then I better enjoy the experience while it lasts, hadn't I?" Dave asked huskily, covering Lizzie's lips again.


	181. Chapter 181

_**SPECIAL NOTE: SEPTEMBER signups are now open through AUGUST, 31, 2012 for the "THE MIX n MATCH CHALLENGE!" Details can be found at the forum. **_

_**Additionally, the steamy FINAL chapter of the Morgan/Garcia ficlet, "Sex on the Beach" available at both The Writers Coffee shop and Fractured-Reality. Com.**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter 181**

Humming against his lips, Lizzie linked her arms around her husband's strong neck, lost in the sensations his confident touch produced. Relaxing more with every passing second as his lips traveled over her neck, down her chest, over her stomach, she giggled as his teeth nipped at her hip bone. "Stop that," she chastised, when he chuckled against her skin.

"Can't help it," Dave grinned, sliding back up her body. "It's nice to hear your laugh again," he whispered, stroking a finger against her flushed cheek.

"Well, that's nice," Lizzie grumbled, shifting against him impatiently, "but, right now, I don't wanna get a fit of the giggles...I'd rather be doin' _other _things," she said pointedly, arching against his heavy body.

"Other things, huh?" Dave whispered, catching his breath as one trim leg curled around his hip, coaxing him closer. "You mean other things like this," he murmured, dropping a hand between them to guide his throbbing staff toward her pouty lips.

"Ohhhhhh," Lizzie inhaled deeply, her fingers burying in Dave's hair as she held his heated gaze while he slowly slid into her welcoming body. "Daaavvvveeee, yessss," she hissed, capturing her lower lip between her teeth as she remembered vividly what it felt like to be possessed by him.

"Okay?" he asked, his voice deep as he watched her pupils dilate, holding himself still above her as her soft walls surrounded him. "Talk to me, baby," he rasped as her fingers tightened in his hair.

"Mmmm hmmmm," Lizzie hummed, lifting her head to press a kiss to his lips. "I'm fine. Stop worryin' so," she mumbled against his mouth.

Returning her kiss, Dave groaned as he sank into her, his manhood flexing eagerly inside her depths. God, how long had it been since they'd been like this? It felt like a lifetime...and it wasn't something he wanted to experience again.

Writhing underneath him as he started a slow, excruciatingly tender pace, Lizzie moaned as her body responded beneath his, white hot desire bubbling low in her belly as he moved in and out of her. "More," she begged against his ear, her voice high and needy as he slid a little deeper. "Stop teasin' me, you black-hearted scoundrel."

"I thought you loved the way I teased, Sweetheart," Dave taunted, seductively sliding his tongue around one rose tipped nipple.

Thumping Dave's shoulder as she shoved him over to his back, Lizzie shook her head. "You are making me as made as mule chewin' on bumblebees, Old Man," she admonished with a glimmer in her eyes as she straddled him.

Grinning wickedly, his hands found her hips easily. "Babe, I don't have a clue what the hell that means, but I am familiar with that look. Why don't I just lie here and let you do all the work?"

"Don't let the tail wag the dog, honey," Lizzie warned, bending to kiss his lips as she rocked her hips, bringing his body deeply into her own. "Seems like I'm the one in charge now. Let's see how you like bein' slowly tortured to death," she said huskily, her hips lifting and falling slowly over him as he hissed out a breath.

"God, Elizabeth," he gasped as her body clenched and released his. "You're killing me," he growled, turning his head to suck lightly on her elegant neck.

"You're the one that poked the mama bear, honey. When she hauls off and gives you the what for, you've got nobody to blame but you," she reminded him, moaning as he lifted his hips, thrusting gently within her.

The fire between them ignited quickly as her body met his, every roll of her hips met with an upward lift of his pelvis. "Oh, sweet Lord, Dave," Lizzie whimpered as his talented hand slid between them, his thumb brushing that secret spot only he'd ever known. "Do that again!" she begged, arching against him as he thrust into her.

"Yeah, babe," Dave grunted, one hand guiding her wanton movements as she slid fluidly over him, her tight sheath gripping his pulsing member with a wickedly delicious heat. "Just like that, Elizabeth," he panted, as her hips moved faster, the bed springs creaking beneath their combined weight.

"S-so close." Elizabeth shuddered as the flame within her burned brighter and his fingers rubbed tight little circles around her hidden bud. Nipples tightening as she moved faster, her breasts bouncing slightly with every downward tilt of her hips, she watched Dave's face clench.

"So sexy," he murmured, watching her graceful body move on top of his. "That's it, baby," he praised as her body tightened around his, "Take what you want," he said hoarsely.

"Oh, oh, ohhhh," Lizzie gasped, her head falling back as her body searched for fulfillment. Words beyond her as the pleasure flared within her, starting in her abdomen as it spread throughout her body, she bucked against him.

Lifting his hips, he met each motion of her hips with a deep thrust, unable to tear his eyes away from her as her vibrant red hair spilled around her breast and her face tightened with pleasure.

"Oh, Jesus, Elizabeth," his deep voice grunted, the muscles in his stomach tightening as his body responded helplessly to her wild gyrations. He knew he was going to explode...and after weeks without her, he recognize that it was going to be more powerful than anything either of them had encountered recently. Wrapping one arm around her to steady her as she contracted around him, her walls constricting to caress his sensitive flesh, he growled against her sweaty neck.

Screaming as she clutched his shoulders, Lizzie felt her world detonate around her, bursts of light clouding her vision as her husband's rough shout accompanied hers.

"Fuck, yes!" Dave's hoarse voice shouted triumphantly as he emptied his essence inside her tight channel, her silky walls milking his flesh. "Elizabeth, YESSSSS," he moaned, shuddering against her. Collapsing backward against the mountain of pillows behind him, he took her small body with him, cushioning her fall.

Regaining her breath a few minutes later, Lizzie turned her head to smile at her husband.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Dave murmured, pressing a kiss to her damp forehead.

"Happy as a clam in high tide," Lizzie sighed, stretching languorously. "You?" she yawned.

"Any happier and you'd need to call the coroner, babe." Dave winked, cuddling her against him as she yawned again. "What do you say we catch a nap and see if you can't try to kill me again in a few hours?"

"That sounds like Christmas morning," Lizzie sighed, her hand sliding over his chest. "And I got the best present under the tree."

"No, sweetheart," Dave denied. "From here on out, everyday is going to be Christmas morning for us." And as his wife fell asleep wrapped in his arms, Dave promised himself that he'd make that statement a reality if it killed him.

* * *

_**Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum news: I'll try to keep it brief.**_

_SEPTEMBER signups are open through AUGUST, 31, 2012 for the "THE MIX n MATCH CHALLENGE!" Details can be found at the forum. _

_There is a new discussion thread available called, "W_HY ARE OUR READERS NOT REVIEWING? We asked, and our readers answered!" _Please check it out and leave a comment._

_We also have another discussion thread entitled __**"**_**The Ups and Downs of Writing an Uncommon Pairing**_**"**__. Please let us know what you think! _

_A continued thank you to everyone that has taken the time to read, review, favorite and alert our stories here on this site. We truly enjoy hearing from each one of you. Also, please check out our "M" stories at __**The Writers Coffee Shop (TWCS)**__ and a Brand New site run by fellow CM authors, Kavi Leighanna, Sienna27 and The Truth Between called __**Fractured-reality. Com**__. If anyone needs a link or direction to the new site, please feel free to contact us through either a private message or while leaving a review and we'll make sure to get back to you. Each former "M" story is getting an overhaul as we publish it AND there are new stories being added all the time there as well._


	182. Chapter 182

_**SPECIAL NOTE: SEPTEMBER signups are now open through AUGUST, 31, 2012 for the "THE MIX n MATCH CHALLENGE!" Details can be found at the forum. **_

_**Also, new chapters to "Touched by an Angel" and "You Found Me" have been posted at The Writers Coffee Shop (TWCS) for those following those stories. Links to that site can be found on my profile page.**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Two**

A month later, Lizzie Rossi was ready to return the contents of her Christmas stocking (i.e. her infuriating bear of a husband) to Santa Claus.

The blasted man was intent on driving her around the bend, although, he'd have argued that it was a short trip considering he was already there and waiting on her.

Honestly, the man seemed to think that pregnancy was an excuse for her to be lazy.

Did he not understand that she had just a few short…very short!...months to ensure that everything was absolutely perfect for her little bundle of joy's arrival? Honestly, if he had his way, she was certain that he would bring their baby home to a pigsty!

And since when was pregnancy a terminal illness? Pish posh! She was as healthy as a horse, and not going to be put out to pasture any time soon!

In the battle that was currently their marriage, the latest skirmish had indeed been the worst. Was it her fault that she simply could not stand looking at the inch of dust that was accumulating on the ceiling fan in the room that would be the nursery? No, it was not! Any self-respecting mother or mother-to-be would have supported her one hundred percent in her efforts to remove that filth!

But her husband was not one of that number. No, not at all. Lizzie felt her shoulders tightening once again as she relived the moment when he had found her standing on the chair and feather dusting to her heart's content. She had been jerked down to the ground and ordered to sit on the couch faster than a junebug could light on a blackberry in summer.

By his reaction, she was certain that he was about to commit murder. Her murder.

But she had won that scuffle, thank the Good Lord. Well, she amended to herself, thank Cousin Aaron. Hotch's phone call had come at just the right moment, distracting her husband with a case-related question.

But now, barely a week later, it appeared as though the lion was about to rear his head again, preparing to roar at the top of his kingly lungs. And honestly, she really wasn't certain she was up to taming the beast one more time. "Dave, if you'll just take two seconds and hear me out..." Lizzie began wearily.

"Hear you out?" Dave bit out, pacing the length of the sofa before turning on his heel and stomping back across the area rug. "I might be willing to do that _IF_ you ever said anything that made any sense, Elizabeth! But you've stopped being coherent. Pregnancy has officially warped your mind into something not even I...a guy that navigates the most depraved and twisted minds that society has to offer...can even come close to understanding."

"Now you're just bein' ugly," Lizzie huffed, crossing her arms over her blooming belly as she glared mutinously at her husband. "'Taint like I was trying to perform acrobatics, David. You and that penchant for drama are runnin' me plumb out my mind," she added loudly as she rolled her eyes at him.

"Running YOU out of your mind?" Dave bellowed, stopping with one foot in the air as he faced her. "You got busted lugging two gallons of paint up the staircase to the nursery!"

"And if Reid had kept his blasted mouth shut, I'd already have one wall fixed up smart," Lizzie growled, glaring at the cowering so-called profiler who was trying to hide in the corner of the room. "You got some real loose lips, Mister!" she growled, wagging an accusatory finger in his direction.

Spencer Reid held up a hand in defense as he glanced wildly from husband to wife. "All I did was…"

"Blab your fool tongue out of your fool mind," Lizzie finished for him, banging her paint brush against the edge of the nearby paint can. "Honest to God and all the little angels in heaven, you men folk think that I'm going to just faint away from liftin' a pencil around here!"

"Well, Lizzie," Reid answered bravely, drawing in a deep breath as he caught the glare that Dave was throwing in his direction, "It has been proven that women who exert themselves have a greater risk of pulling muscles unused to the effort, putting undue strain on lungs that are already supporting extra body weight, and causing complications that could have been otherwise…."

"See!" Rossi exclaimed, pointing at the man that was supporting his opinion. "The genius agrees with me!"

"The so-called genius just called me fat!" Lizzie cried, turning a heated glare on her so-called friend. Eyes widening as she sniffed, she demanded, "You don't think I'm fat, do you, Spencer?"

While Spencer might have been less than skilled in the arena of communicating with the opposite sex, he had at least learned that commenting on a woman's physical appearance would never bode well for him. Backing up against the wall as he tried to make himself as small a target as possible, Spencer answered loyally, "Of course not, Lizzie. You are simply carrying extra pounds that are meant to provide nourishment and growth for the fetus. And if that means that you are plumper than normal, then…"

Groaning as he watched his wife's face start to crumple once again, Dave interrupted quickly, "What it means is that you're absolutely perfect, babe. And Dr. Know-it-all here agrees." Turning to glare at the man that had opened the newest can of worms, Rossi demanded, "Right, Reid?"

Nodding rapidly as he recognized the obvious errors of his ways, Spencer babbled, "Exactly. You're perfect, Lizzie."

Blinking rapidly against the tears that were once again threatening to spill out of her welling eyes, Lizzie choked out, "You're just saying that to keep from Dave killing you. I know you think I'm fat! I can tell!"

Once again damning the hormones that had obviously overtaken his wife's ability to reason, Dave gathered her in his arms as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Babe, how many times do I have to tell you that you're the most gorgeous woman on the planet? And the fact that you're carrying my daughter just makes you even more beautiful."

"Liar," Lizzie's muffled voice accused against her husband's broad chest. "And you ain't even good at doin' it."

"You know better," Dave grumbled against her vibrant red head, the strands tickling his nose.

Lifting her head, she batted her dark lashes. "I want my nursery painted," she implored sweetly.

Pressing his lips together as he met her watery green eyes, Dave felt his shoulders sag in defeat. "Fine. Reid, pack those cans of paint upstairs."

"You're gonna let me…"

"…watch," Dave stated sternly while Spencer quickly collected the directed pails and fled toward the staircase, his pale face obviously relieved to be given a task out of harm's way. "I'm gonna let you _watch_ from a safe distance with all the windows open to air out the smell. And the second it gets even a little chilly, you're coming down here and putting your feet up on the sofa while I finish. No complaints and no arguments. Got it?"

"But I could…."

"You could take the deal I'm offering and be pleased that you're at least partially getting your own way," Dave said reasonably. "OR you can yell and scream your head off while you're tied up in a closet away from danger while I paint. It's your choice, of course."

"You drive a hard bargain," Lizzie grumbled, pressing her cheek to his chest again as his warm palms slid up and down her back.

"It's a win-win, Lizzie. C'mon, babe. I'll let you bitch all afternoon about my handiwork without a single muttered word. It doesn't get any better than that, does it?" He grinned against her temple.

"You are so lucky that I believe in the art of conceding gracefully," Lizzie mumbled as she let him lead her to the stairs, hiding a grin as she imagined the beautiful nursery that would soon be hers.

* * *

_**Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum news: I'll try to keep it brief.**_

_SEPTEMBER signups are open through AUGUST, 31, 2012 for the "THE MIX n MATCH CHALLENGE!" Details can be found at the forum. _

_There is a new discussion thread available called, "W_HY ARE OUR READERS NOT REVIEWING? We asked, and our readers answered!" _Please check it out and leave a comment._

_We also have another discussion thread entitled __**"**_**The Ups and Downs of Writing an Uncommon Pairing**_**"**__. Please let us know what you think! _

_A continued thank you to everyone that has taken the time to read, review, favorite and alert our stories here on this site. We truly enjoy hearing from each one of you. Also, please check out our "M" stories at __**The Writers Coffee Shop (TWCS)**__ and a Brand New site run by fellow CM authors, Kavi Leighanna, Sienna27 and The Truth Between called __**Fractured-reality. Com**__. If anyone needs a link or direction to the new site, please feel free to contact us through either a private message or while leaving a review and we'll make sure to get back to you. Each former "M" story is getting an overhaul as we publish it AND there are new stories being added all the time there as well._


	183. Chapter 183

_**SPECIAL NOTE: SEPTEMBER signups are now open through AUGUST, 31, 2012 for the "THE MIX n MATCH CHALLENGE!" Details can be found at the forum. **_

_**Also, new chapters to "Touched by an Angel" and "You Found Me" have been posted at The Writers Coffee Shop (TWCS) for those following those stories. Links to that site can be found on my profile.**_

_**AND NOW THE BIG NEWS- THE AWARDS SEASON HAS COMMENCED! Nominations have opened for the third annual Profiler's Choice Awards for Criminal Minds' fandom! Please visit Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum for the nomination ballot, rules and guidelines and category definitions. Please review ALL information BEFORE submitting your nomination ballot. Ilovetvalot, Tonnie2001969, and HXChick are NOT eligible for ANY awards.**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred Eight Three**

Yawning widely as he pulled the covers back on their king sized bed, Dave grinned as his eyes found Lizzie's peaceful sleeping face. Curled on her side with her hand tucked beneath her chin, she looked almost angelic. Albeit, an exhausted angel.

Not that he felt much different. The now painted nursery had kicked his aging ass. But it was fit for a princess, if he did say so himself.

And he had.

Multiple times.

It wasn't every day that he got to do something tangible to prepare for their daughter's arrival. While his wife was given the unyielding task of keeping their daughter safe and sound and growing inside her womb, he sometimes felt like he was superfluous at this point. So he had to admit that he felt a small sense of accomplishment at making his soon-to-arrive daughter's room exactly as they both wanted it.

But damn….did his body have to protest so much? Groaning to himself as he rolled his shoulders, Dave ruefully shook his head as he reached for the bedside lamp.

The ringing of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts, and he quickly silenced the interruption. Glancing down at Lizzie's still form, he let out a sigh of relief that she was still asleep as he pressed the phone to his cheek. "This better be good," he growled as he toed off his shoes and slid them under the bed.

"Well, it ain't," came the voice from the other end.

"Ray?" Dave asked, surprise coloring his voice as he stilled suddenly. Glancing over at the bedside clock, he added, "It's almost fuckin' midnight, man. What the hell's going on?"

"I'm takin' it that LizzieBear's not within earshot since you're whipping off words that would send her to the moon and back," Lizzie's brother replied heavily.

"She's asleep," Dave replied shortly, well aware of the fact that his brother-in-law wasn't calling just to chat. Moving toward their en suite bathroom, he stepped inside and closed the door. "Now tell me what's going on. Is it your mom or dad? Did James' heart act up again? For the love of God, tell me that old coot did NOT have another heart attack," Dave begged, his stomach already tightening as he prepared for bad news.

"Mama and Daddy are fine…well, at least health-wise," Ray rushed to assure him. "But, this ain't good news, Dave. It's Granddaddy," he acknowledged softly.

"Shit," Dave breathed, hanging his head as his hand tightened around the phone. "Is he…"

"He passed away 'bout two hours ago," Ray informed the other man solemnly.

"Christ," Dave hissed through clenched teeth, running a restless hand through his hair. "What the hell happened? I just talked to James yesterday! He was fine then….out on the porch with his moonshine."

"Wee-lll, it's the 'shine that kinda got him to his final resting place, Dave," Ray hedged, running a hand around his neck anxiously.

Dave's keen hearing rarely missed anything and he could sense there was more to this than met the ear. "Hell, Ray…you all didn't let him near the tractor, did you? You know I had to fish him out of the pond more than once while I was there!"

"Nah, not this time. He decided to share his bottle this time with somebody other than the fishes. No, this time he went a'courtin' with it."

"Oh, Jesus, Ray. It's the middle of the damn night. What the hell are you saying?" Dave groaned, leaning against the double sink in the master bathroom as he waited for his brother-in-law to enlighten him.

"He was found in the Widow Mabry's bed, Dave!" Ray hissed into the phone. "But that's 'tween you, me and the fencepost, you hear me?"

Jaw dropping as he absorbed the information he'd just been given, Dave shook his head. "You mean…you mean…"

"I mean, Granddaddy died the way any red blooded man dreams of goin'," Ray choked. "With a smile on his face."

"Wait a minute! Wasn't the Widow Mabry the one that was ninety years old? She didn't have any teeth, Ray!" Dave began to yell, wincing as he realized he had to be quiet and lowering his voice to a dull roar.

"'Parently, she didn't need 'em for the service she was a performin'." Ray choked on his laughter. "Like I said, Granddaddy went out a happy old man."

"Now, how the hell am I gonna tell Lizzie any of this?" Dave groaned, pacing the tiled floor. "You know she's gonna want the details. It's her granddaddy, for God's sake!"

"Nothin', Dave! You don't tell her a blessed thing. If you tell her the truth, she's gonna tattle to Mama. And trust me, Man, you do NOT want Mama knowin' what her daddy was doin' with his dyin' breath. Not unless you wanna eat burnt food 'til the Second Coming!"

"What the hell is James telling her then?" Dave asked desperately.

"As little as possible," Ray murmured darkly, the phone signal fading for second then coming back. "'Sides, Daddy give Mama a little nerve pill after he gave her the news. She won't be up to askin' any questions 'til tomorrow. We got a little time to come up with something."

"You mean YOU'VE got time to come up with something," Rossi growled, pacing back and forth in the tiled bathroom, barely resisting the urge to slam his hand against the wall. The only thing that stopped him was that he knew the noise would wake his sleeping wife, and in addition to everything else that he was certain he was going to be blamed for, he did not want to endure another one of lectures on re-plastering the wall. Apparently, his wife did not approve of his tendency to have to spackle their walls on a regular basis. Forcing his attention back to the conversation, he added darkly, "I'm just married into this crazy family. Your mother and Lizzie are yours by birth."

Ray's wry chuckle came quickly through the phone line. "Hell, man, you're responsible for her now. You got her in the marriage agreement, and I'll be damned if we're taking her back now that we've found the man that can actually handle her. She raves about how bloomin' smart you, so you best be thinkin' up some sort of fib that she'll take as the God's honest truth." And before Dave could answer, Ray added helpfully, "And make it good so we can be sharin' it with Mama, too, when she comes back to her senses."

And as the phone clicked in his ear, Dave realized that his brother-in-law had hung up on him…and left him holding the proverbial cat in the bag.

God help him.

* * *

_**Dear Readers,**_

_**Tomorrow, I (ilovetvalot) will be having surgery on my cervical spine. This will delay all further postings until Monday. I'm sorry for the inconvenience. Please direct all questions regarding the Profiler's Choice Awards and nominations to Tonnie2001969 and allow us 72 hours to respond to any questions. We would like to encourage you to nominate your favorite CM stories in this year's awards. We'd like to have a nice well-rounded voting ballot to offer you and that only happens if we nominate our faves.**_

_**Thanks again for your understanding!**_

_**ilovetvalot**_


	184. Chapter 184

_**SPECIAL NOTE: **_

_**AND NOW THE BIG NEWS- THE AWARDS SEASON HAS COMMENCED! Nominations have opened for the third annual Profiler's Choice Awards for Criminal Minds' fandom! Please visit Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum for the nomination ballot, rules and guidelines and category definitions. Please review ALL information BEFORE submitting your nomination ballot. Ilovetvalot, Tonnie2001969, and HXChick are NOT eligible for ANY awards. PLEASE COME BY THE FORUM AND TAKE A LOOK. EVERY NOMINATION BALLOT IS IMPORTANT!**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Four**

Easing open the heavy wooden door, Dave stepped back into their dimly lit bedroom and dropped the phone on the nightstand. Quickly glancing down at his sleeping wife, he half-debated letting her continue in the land of slumber, knowing that she was physically exhausted from the day's events and from the unending job of growing their daughter. But his conscience chose that moment to become active, accusing him of merely delaying the inevitable and reminding him that Elizabeth would never forgive him for not letting him know immediately about her grandfather.

He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't. It was all Granddaddy's fault. And if Dave wasn't mistaken, he would swear that he heard the old man chuckling in the hereafter at the quandary he had deliberately left Dave and James in. Dammit, if the old man was still here, Dave would have gladly kicked his ass down the road and back for this little escapade!

Drawing in a deep breath, Dave gently sat down on Lizzie's side of the bed, his hip brushing against her rounded tummy. Her breath came out in a sigh just then, and Dave reached out and flipped on the bedside light, bathing them both in a golden glow. Cupping her cheek, he stroked his fingers against her skin as he said softly, "Lizzie, babe, I need you to wake up."

"Don't wanna," she mumbled, still half asleep as she reached blindly for the covers, trying to pull them over her face.

Deftly capturing the blanket, Dave caught her hand as he half-heartedly ordered, "Come on, babe. Just for a minute. I need to tell you something and it can't wait." Well, it could wait, his darker demons whispered ever so helpfully….but he fought through and ignored the niggling temptation.

Rubbing her hands over her eyes, Lizzie stretched her arms over her head as she blinked heavily. "Is it already the mornin'? I swannee, Dave, I feel like I've just barely caught a few winks and not been asleep a-tall!"

"That's because you haven't yet, babe," Dave assured her, helping to pull her up in the bed and propped pillows behind her.

"You're talking in riddles, and you know how much that annoys me." Lizzie yawned as she swatted at his hands, glaring at her husband.

"No riddles, honey." Dave once again cursed Ray, then asked his wife, "You sure you're awake? Really awake?"

"I'm awake enough to know that I'm gonna be boppin' your noggin with the alarm clock if you don't start speakin' some sense soon."

Recognizing the sentiment as the threat it was intended to be, Dave eased out of her reach as he said quickly, "I've got bad news and I don't know how else to say it but to just say it, honey. Your granddaddy's not with us anymore."

"Not with us?" Lizzie echoed dumbly, rubbing her fist against her eyes as she tried to force her vision to clear. "Well, where'd ya'll lose him this time? Don't tell me that Ray and that other idiot brother of mine let him wander off again," Lizzie groaned. "Mama was fit to be tied the last time. Finally found him four-wheelin' up at Widow's Peak. Said he'd gone up there to check on the cattle. Did dDddy check up there?" she asked, sitting up straighter in bed.

"Your grandfather still goes four-wheeling?" Dave gaped, shaking his head quickly.

"Yep." Lizzie nodded before letting out a sigh. "But I'm bettin' Mama takes those keys from him quick as a bunny after this incident."

"No, Lizzie." Dave shook his head, trying to clear his mind and focus on the news he had to deliver. "Honey, he isn't lost."

"…but you just said," Lizzie began, her accent growing thicker as she became more agitated.

"I said your Granddaddy wasn't with us anymore. He passed away this evening. It was…peaceful. There wasn't any pain, sweetheart," he told her, privately thinking that if a man had to choose a way to leave the world…that would probably make the top three.

Blinking rapidly as she stared into Dave's solemn face, Lizzie felt a cold numbness begin to seep into her bones. "No," she faltered, frowning. "I just talked to Mama this afternoon. She said granddaddy was sittin' out on the porch smokin' his pipe. You're wrong."

"Ray just called, Elizabeth. Your grandfather is gone," Dave repeated, knowing she hadn't absorbed the full meaning of his words yet.

"You stop sayin' that!" she yelled, slamming one fist against his chest as she scrambled across the bed, reaching for the phone. "I'm callin' Mama. She'll set all of y'all to rights," she announced, her tiny voice filled with fury. "Ain't no way granddaddy went from sittin' on the porch to droppin' dead!"

Catching Lizzie's wrist when she would have snatched up the cordless, Dave shook his head. "Honey, you can't talk to your mother just now," he denied.

"What?! Why?!" Lizzie shrieked, her heart pounding in her chest. "What's wrong with my Mama?" she asked, her eyes wide with fear.

"Nothing, honey. Well, that isn't true. She was grieving. Your father gave her a sedative to calm her down. This was a shock to her," Dave explained calmly, letting out a sigh of his own. "She's resting now. You can talk to her in the morning."

"Devil take the mornin', Rossi," Lizzie exploded, throwing back the bedspread and hefting her legs over the side of the bed. "I'll be home by mornin'! And so will you, you hear me?"

He watched as his wife hopped out of the bed and clamored to her knees, a ball of redheaded energy. "What the hell are you doing, woman?" he asked in alarm as he watched the upper half of her body disappear underneath the bed. "Get out of the floor!"

Blowing curls out of her face as her hand wrapped around the handle of the suitcase she sought, Lizzie glared at her husband. "I'm getting' the blame suitcase. I can't very well go home with the clothes on my back, can I? It's not like I can go traipsin' down to Georgia in my nightie."

"Elizabeth," Dave said sternly, catching her arm and helping her to her feet, "No."

"No? No, what?" Lizzie asked irritably, shoving a trembling hand into her wild mane of hair.

"No, babe. You aren't going anywhere tonight," Rossi told his wife with a negative shake of his head.

"Don't. Don't you dare! I'm going _home_, David. My family needs me," Lizzie declared, her voice adamant.

"You and that little girl you're carrying are _my_ family," Dave reminded her, pressing his hand to her stomach when she would have pulled away. "Lizzie, you're nearing your delivery date, sweetheart…"

"Then I'll _deliver_in Piermont," she retorted, swatting his fingers away as she tried to turn. "If you think I'm not goin' home for my Granddaddy's funeral, you've gone loco. Crazy! Stark ravin' mad! My mama is gonna be a wreck. You just told me that Daddy had to knock her out," she said, shaking off his restraining arm and hefting the empty suitcase on the bed. "She needs me and I'm gonna be there. Come or not, that's your choice," she said, her words an ultimatum before she turned on her heel and marched into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.


	185. Chapter 185

_**SPECIAL NOTE: AND NOW THE BIG NEWS- THE AWARDS SEASON HAS COMMENCED! Nominations have opened for the third annual Profiler's Choice Awards for Criminal Minds' fandom! Please visit Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum for the nomination ballot, rules and guidelines and category definitions. Please review ALL information BEFORE submitting your nomination ballot. Ilovetvalot, Tonnie2001969, and HXChick are NOT eligible for ANY awards. PLEASE COME BY THE FORUM AND TAKE A LOOK. EVERY NOMINATION BALLOT IS IMPORTANT!**_

_**Also, we have the Halloween Challenge ready for signups at the forum for anyone interested!**_

_**Also, please check out our brand new multi-chapter story, "Love That Does Not Die". It is a Newsroom/Criminal Minds crossover story focusing on the Will/MacKenzie dynamic with special help from David Rossi. Please give it a try!**_

_**As always, thank each of you for reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting our stories. We truly appreciate each one of you.**_

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter 185**

Breathing deeply, Dave ran a tired hand over his face as the sound of his wife's tears echoed through the closed door. Sitting heavily on their bed, he reached for the phone again, dialing Aaron Hotchner's number by memory. As the sound of Lizzie's heartbreaking sobs continued, he heard Aaron's groggy voice answer the phone.

"Aaron, it's Dave," Rossi said grimly.

"Dave?" Hotch said, his voice becoming instantly alert as he glanced at the clock on his nightstand. "What's wrong? Is it Lizzie?"

"Lizzie's all right. But I've got bad news. Her grandfather died this evening," he informed the younger man softly.

Aaron was silent several seconds as he comprehended Dave's announcement. "You're sure?" he asked hoarsely, remembering the man that he had thought of as his own grandfather even though he hadn't been blood related.

"Ray just called. Listen, Lizzie is insisting on going home immediately. I need to charter a plane."

Shaking his head, Aaron replied. "Hold tight. Let me make a couple of phone calls, okay? I might be able to help with that. Give me fifteen minutes. I'll call you back."

"I'll be waiting," Dave agreed, hanging up. Staring across the room at the bathroom, he prayed she hadn't locked the door this time. Why the hell hadn't he just got rid of the thing the last time she'd played her game of hide and seek with him, he asked himself tiredly. "Honey?" he called, rising to cross the room and rest his hand against the cool wood. "Let me in, okay?" Grimacing as the answering sound of a bottle of something hit the door, he wondered if he'd make it to Georgia intact.

Reaching for the doorknob, he was relieved to find it turned easily, allowing him to push the door open and see into the room. He caught his breath as Lizzie lifted her tear stained face, her expressive eyes still shining with determination.

"You best be comin' in here to tell me you ferreted out a plan to get me _home_, Rossi," she threatened, her little body stiffening on her perch on the closed toilet.

"Working on it." Dave nodded, crossing the room to hold out his hand. "C'mon, Elizabeth Grace," he said, wrapping his fingers around hers and helping her to her feet. "Hotch is going to call us back in about fifteen minutes. Let's get packed."

"You called Aaron?" Lizzie sniffled, waddling behind him with one hand pressed against her belly. "What did you tell him?"

"Just the facts," Dave answered…or at least as many as the facts as he could tell him over the phone with the possibility his wife could overhear. The rest of the story would have to wait until they were face to face. And alone. Very alone. "Sit down, babe," Dave murmured, tugging her to the bed. "You tell me what you want to take and I'll pack it," he said, flipping open the suitcase.

XXXXX

Half an hour later, Dave stood with Aaron in the privacy of his library while Lizzie finished getting ready upstairs.

Staring dumbly at his best friend, Aaron Hotchner blinked. "You aren't serious," he finally managed to choke.

"Does this _look_ like the face of somebody that's joking, Aaron?" Dave asked irritably, jabbing a finger toward his face. "I got it straight from your cousin. Granddaddy went to the Great Beyond with a smile on his face…the kind of satisfied smirk that not even the undertaker can remove," he winced.

"Pappy and the _widow_?" Aaron gaped once again as he shook his head. "He hated that woman!"

"Evidently, his hatred did not extend to her mouth," Dave replied dryly, wondering how this man did not know his own crazy family. "And remember, not a word! Apparently your uncle and cousins are going to attempt to conceal the details from the fairer sex in the family."

"Yeah, that'll work," Aaron snorted, well aware of how well his relatives would handle that deception…and genuinely not wanting to be within twenty miles when that time came. "Aunt Anne can smell a lie at twenty paces. And she'll punish everybody in a country mile for the disrespect."

"Hey, I married into this insanity. You were born into the crazy," Dave retorted as he shrugged. "At this point, I'm not sure which one of us I feel sorrier for." Hearing Lizzie's footsteps on the stairs, he lowered his voice. "Remember, not a word."

Nodding, Aaron watched as Lizzie walked into the room. "How you doing, Lizzie?" he asked, kissing her pale cheek as she walked into the room.

"I'll be better once I get home," she replied tightly as she dropped her small tote bag on the floor. "Can we go now?" she asked Dave, her red eyes staring up at him.

His feet soft as he crossed the hard floor to her, Dave gently captured her chin as he tilted her face toward his. Cataloging the stress blanketing her face, he murmured, "Babe, you're already worn out. Why don't we at least wait until morning and then fly down to Georgia? You can sleep for a few more hours and…."

"I'll sleep on the plane," Lizzie interrupted, shaking her head against his touch as she met his eyes. "I aim to be in Piermont afore Mama awakes." Turning toward Hotch, she asked, "You comin' too, Cousin Aaron?"

Meeting Dave's eyes over the top of Lizzie's ponytail, Aaron sighed. "Yeah, Lizzie-bear, I'll be in Georgia tomorrow night. I need to wrap up a few things at the office in the morning and I'll take a later flight."

"Fine then," she replied woodenly, crossing her arms over her chest as she turned back toward her husband. "Are we ready?"

Sighing as he realized that he was literally caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place, Dave nodded once. "We're ready, Elizabeth. The plane's being fueled as we speak, and Aaron's going to drive us to the runway." Motioning toward their luggage stacked near the door, he asked, "You have everything you need?"

"All I need is to see my Mama, Dave," Lizzie replied as she reached for the tote she had dropped earlier. "And the sooner we get to Georgia, the sooner all's gonna be better."

Following his wife and grabbing suitcases as Aaron did the same, Dave muttered under his breath, "Until all hell breaks lose, that is."

And he could have sworn that he heard the sound of Charlie Daniels' fiddle dancing wildly in the background as he closed the door to his house behind them.


	186. Chapter 186

**A couple of important notes for today, readers. First, there are officially two weeks left to nominate your favorite authors and stories for the 2012 Criminal Minds Profilers Choice Awards hosted by the Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. The nomination ballot, rules, and category list can be found there. A link is provided on my profile page.**

**Also, Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum has also commenced the signups for our December challenge - the fandom's annual Christmas Gift Fic Exchange. If you are interested in passing along some Holiday joy, please swing by and sign up. Stories are the gifts that keep on giving. Please give this one a try.**

**As always, thanks to everyone that continues to read our stories!**

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Eighty Six**

Frowning as he steered their rented SUV up the lane toward Lizzie's family's farmhouse, Dave shook his head. It appeared half the county had showed up this morning, and the poor guy wasn't even cold yet. "Why the hell does your parent's land look like a parking lot?" Dave asked, bemusement filling his voice.

Frowning as she looked up from her hands, Lizzie shrugged. "Looks about normal to me. The funeral home should be here soon. I don't see the hearse yet."

"Pardon?" Dave gaped, staring at his wife as if she had just announced that aliens were landing on the front lawn. "Why in the world would the hearse be showing up, here, Lizzie?"

"Oh, that's right," she sighed, offering her husband a quick look, shaking her head. "You've never been to a southern funeral, have you?"

"I've attended plenty of funerals _everywhere_, Elizabeth," Dave replied warily. "I've never heard of a hearse _delivering_ a body to the home. Picking up, yes. Delivering, no."

"We'll be sittin' up with the dead tonight, Dave. It'd be real hard to do that without a body," Lizzie explained simply.

Blinking as he listened to his seemingly rational wife's explanation, Dave shook his head. "Sitting up with _the dead_?"

"It's tradition. We'll sit with the body tonight a'fore we bury granddaddy tomorrow. It's a sign of respect," she clarified for her mystified husband. "Just immediate family after nightfall," she added helpfully, shrugging as if it was an everyday occurrence.

"Lizzie, that's what we pay the funeral parlor for," Dave pointed out, still confused. "They take care of the body."

"Not here," Lizzie stated flatly, her eyes narrowing as she glared at the Yankee that was her husband. "Not in this family. We look after our own until it's time to say a final goodbye."

"That's insane," Dave retorted. Seriously, he'd heard of a lot of jacked up plans, but this took the cake. Honestly, did his wife expect him to allow her to stay up all night in her condition, guarding a body that clearly wasn't going anywhere? Hell, no.

Lizzie's green eyes flashed ominously as she snagged Dave's tie and jerked his face down to hers. "For once, you will keep your opinions about the way my family chooses to handle our grievin' to yourself, do you understand me? If you so much as unsettle one hair on my mama's head, I swear by God's little green apples I will gut you like a trout. You understand me, Rossi?"

Nodding wordlessly, Dave gulped. Damn, his spitfire had morphed into a Hell's Angel sometime in the last hour.

"Say the words, David Rossi," she demanded, her tone tight and hard. "Say 'em right now!"

"Babe, I understand everything you're saying. You know that I have no intentions of doing anything to hurt your Mama at this time," Dave replied quickly, shaking his head as he gave her his best supportive smile.

"You best be remembering that," Lizzie muttered, her ire slightly assuaged as she glared into his eyes, searching for any sign that he might be even thinking of reneging on that promise. "And no Yankee comments, you hear me? My Mama ain't interested in the way things are done in the North, got it?"

Shaking his head again as he bit back the retort in his throat, Dave knew that in order to win the war of keeping Lizzie calm and safe that he might have to concede the occasional small battle. "Got it, honey," he replied simply, then caught her arm when she would have opened her door. "But you make me a promise, too, okay?"

Narrowing her eyes as she huffed in exasperation, she declared, "Dave, my Mama's just waitin' on the inside for me to get my waddling butt in there. You really wanna be the man that keeps her waitin' any longer?"

"What I want is for my wife to promise me that she won't let herself get too tired out," Dave countered calmly, his fingers never leaving Lizzie's arm. "That includes this sitting up all night thing. Got it?"

"Fine," Lizzie replied quickly, pulling her arm away and opening her door before he could stop her again. Waiting until he got out of the other side of the vehicle and walked around to her, she added ominously, "It just means that you'll have to do it for me, Dave. Got it?"

**$$000$$**

Looking around the big, airy family kitchen a few hours later, even David Rossi could admit that some things were larger than life. He was overwhelmed…by food. Everywhere he looked, there were casseroles with crusty tops, pies of every variety and enough banana pudding to feed a small African village for months. It looked like some weird kind of competition…..and the contestants kept rolling in.

"'Scuse me, sugah," a blue haired old lady drawled, bumping him with her hip as she hustled past him, curling her nose at the two puddings on the kitchen counter before pushing them aside and dropping her own yellow dish with a flourish. Looking over her shoulder, her wrinkled face beamed at him. "You hungry, darlin'? she asked, reaching for a paper plate. "This here puddin' came out the stove just a few minutes ago," she added, heaping a spoonful over the plate and pushing it into his hands.

"Actually, ma'am," Dave protested, cringing as he took a hold of the third plate that had been pressed at him in the last half hour.

"Eat up," the little old woman commanded as she nodded. "I but extra butter and lard in this batch. It'll stick to your ribs unlike some of these," she said, casting a disparaging eye at her pudding competitors. "Why, just look how puny Gertrude's turned out," she bemoaned as she winced. "And Evie's didn't set up a'tall." She shook her head as if the sheer audacity of the pudding to fall was a slight to all womankind everywhere.

Dave had no clue who these women were, but his wife's instructions had been clear. If somebody put something in his hands, eat it, praise it and move on. Reluctantly scooping a small bit of the pudding on his spoon, he gingerly placed it between his lips. "Delicious," he enthused with a tight smile at the lady in front of him. Why did these people believe pudding was the cure for grief? Seriously, did they think bananas were the magical fruit of Paradise? Had he missed that scripture somewhere during catechism?

"Ahhh, glad you like it, son." The old woman smiled before moving on her way.

Releasing a relieved breath as the lady disappeared from his view, he dumped the remnants on his paper plate into the trash and draped his used napkin over it to disguise the evidence. The last thing he wanted to do was insult one of the Winstead family friends by refusing their food. Looking around, he knew he had to get out of there before some other well-meaning mourner pushed something else in his hands to eat.

Peering around the doorway, he spotted his wife engaged in conversation with two old women that were only mildly recognizable, her hand resting over her rounded belly. He figured the two old biddies chatting with her would by him at least fifteen minutes of freedom. Quickly making his way to the back door, he slid outside into the muggy heat.

God save him from the South…

* * *

**And one last special note to our readers:**

We invite you to check out the newest Kindle publications….**The Estate** and **Inescapable Eye of the Storm **(written by Sarah O'Rourke – the alter ego of ilovetvalot and tonnie2001969!) If you're looking for a sexy romp in the fiction world, then these books are for you.

When desire meets delicious depravity, the only place to be is at **The Estate.** This multi-chapter story draws you into the secretive world of hedonism among the social elite...and refuses to let you leave until you have experienced all the delicious depravity that The Estate has to offer. **Inescapable Eye of the Storm** is the first in a series of FOUR books that will draw the reader into the erotic yet chaos-filled world Abigail Donovan and Colin Storm – and each of them finds out that the storm on the inside is far more dangerous than anything Mother Nature could throw their way!

Both books are available on Amazon/Kindle – just search for Sarah O'Rourke! Check out the author's Facebook page at .com (slash) .507. A link is provided on our profile pages here at fanfiction!


	187. Chapter 187

**_Check out some of the new Vacation Challenge fics that have been posted by the great Criminal Minds authors at Chit Chat on Author Corner. There's a new thread devoted to this latest challenge, and we hope you'll enjoy the great new reads!_**

**_While you're at the forum, check out all of the wonderful stories that were posted on the Christmas Gift Fic Exchange! From your favorite pairing to snowmen and jingle bells, our fellow authors have created some amazing fics just for your enjoyment!_**

**_Calling all readers of Sarah O'Rourke (our alter ego!) We have just lowered the price of The Devil's Snare to only 99 cents on Kindle. You can grab your copy today on at (slash) author (slash) sarahorourke, and choose The Devil's Snare! (Sarah also has three other books published…check them all out!)_**

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter 187**

"Hey, Dave," Tommy Joe greeted softly from the back porch steps, his booted feet sprawled in front of him.

"Dave." Ray nodded, tilting his cowboy hat at the older man as he leaned against one of the wide white posts supporting the house.

"Son," James Winstead murmured hoarsely from his position in one of the metal chairs that had been drawn around back. "Everybody okay in there?"

Closing the door quickly behind him, Dave frowned. "Everybody is okay. Lizzie and Mama were being entertained by the blue haired ladies inside. More are showing up all the time and they're each armed with a pie or a pudding of some kind. What are you all doing back here?"

"Couldn't stand to sit out front," James confessed softly. "Don't feel right without Granddaddy out there. Plus, I'd have been too tempted to ferret out the moonshine," he admitted with a grim smile. "My Annie's tears are goin' to drive me to drink."

David Rossi could sympathize with that sentiment. It must be a Winstead woman trait. Elizabeth's tears had the capability of rendering him near homicidal, too. "Is there anything you need?" Dave asked gruffly, shading his eyes from the sun as he moved to James' side. "Aside from a belt of moonshine?"

Grimacing, James looked up at his daughter's husband. "You got any trick up that sleeve of yours for tellin' Annie the truth 'bout the way her daddy went into the Hereafter? Because as sure as the sun will set this evenin', as soon as this crowd thins out, she's gonna start thinkin'. Then, she's gonna start askin' questions. And I never was much good at tellin' lies to that woman inside," he remarked heavily, jerking his grey head toward the house.

"Nobody is any good at tellin' Mama fibs, daddy," Ray commented on a sigh. "Or Lizzie Bear, either, for that matter," he said with an aggrieved look at Dave. "You can bet Lizzie's gonna have her own share of questions, too."

"True enough," Tommy Joe murmured with a nod. "Together, Lizzie and Mama….they're a force to be reckoned with. You should know that by now, City Man," he said with a grin at Dave, no malice in its intent.

"We've all seen the Winstead women in action before," Dave replied evenly. "And we all survived. We just have to stick together."

A chorus of nods and murmurs went around the back porch.

"I swear, if Pa weren't already dead, I might kill him," James muttered under his breath. "The widow? Of all the women in this little town, he had to go chasin' the skirt of the one woman that Annie could never stand."

Opening his mouth to ask what had started the animosity between them, Dave paused as the back door opened behind him.

"Well it just figures," Lizzie Winstead Rossi huffed irritably as she stepped out on the wooden planks of the back porch. "Half of Pierpont is inside this house, and where are ya'll?" she asked, her hands on her hips. "Out here hidin'. Chewin' the fat while Mama and I look after these folks!"

He knew half his wife's agitation stemmed from her grief and the other half was brought on by a lack of rest. She'd barely sat still for two seconds put together since they'd arrived this morning. "Honey, you tell us what you want done, and it'll get done," Dave offered softly, wrapping his arm around her waist and drawing her against him.

Stealing a moment to lean against him and absorb his strength, Lizzie rested her head against his shoulder. "Sorry," she mumbled against his shirt. "I guess the heat is getting' to me."

"When was the last time you ate something?" Dave asked gently, stroking his hand down her tense back.

"The old widow Perkins wouldn't let me out of her sight until I'd tasted her banana pudding, so, about five minutes ago," Lizzie admitted as she grimaced. "But, the reason I came lookin' for ya'll was that we're almost outta ice."

"Ice?" Each man repeated quickly, latching onto the promise of a brief escape from the mourning that had overtaken the old farmhouse.

"Uh huh. We need to restock before the funeral parlor delivers granddaddy's body, too. You know this house will fill back up once he gets here and the sun goes down."

Each man volunteered eagerly. "I'll go!"

"Oh, no! Not all of you are up and leavin," Lizzie denied, lifting her head. "Daddy, you need to stay here in case Mama needs you. Tommy Joe, you need to be here to help carry Granddaddy's casket inside. Ray and Dave can go."

Frowning, Dave looked down at his tired wife. "I'm not sure if I should leave you."

"You hafta go. Otherwise, Ray just might make a break for it. I know if you go, you'll drag him back if necessary," she explained.

"Gee, thanks, Sissy. Your faith in me is real touching," Ray mocked, sweeping off his hat to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

Looking at her oldest brother, Lizzie smiled. "We both know how much you hate sittin' up with the dead, Ray. Are you tellin' me you wouldn't latch onto any chance to avoid it?"

"No, but you didn't have to point it out," he grumbled, plopping his hat back on his head as he gave his sister a severe look.

Pecking Lizzie on the lips, Dave offered her hips a squeeze as he smacked the back of Ray's head as the man passed. "Just get in the damn SUV," Dave ordered. "And you," he said with a look at his wife, "need to find a quiet place to put your feet up and take a break."

"You got something wrong with your eyes?" Lizzie asked irritably.

"My vision is just fine," Dave returned evenly.

"Really? 'Cause I declare you must be blind as a bat," she huffed. "There's a peck of people in that house, Dave. I can't just disappear and leave Mama to face that crowd."

"Either you take a break or I cuff you to the bed again, Elizabeth," Dave warned sternly. "It's your choice."

Rising from his chair, James took his daughter's arm firmly. "I'll make sure she sits down."

"Daddy," Lizzie whined, trying to pull away from her father's grip.

"Your Mama's already endured one tragedy. We ain't gonna have another," James stated firmly. "Go on and get back, Dave," he nodded to the other man as he half led, half dragged his protesting daughter back inside.

Exchanging a grin with Tommy, Dave sighed as he hurried down the steps.

Ray shot Tommy a victorious grin as he darted toward the truck, anxious to escape the grieving household if only for a few valuable minutes. Waiting until Dave had taken his spot behind the steering wheel, he offered his grim faced brother in law a long look. "Can you believe this mess?" he asked under his breath, glancing back out the window to where his father herded his siblings back into the house and closed the door behind him.

"No, I can't," Dave growled, twisting the key in the ignition as he spared one last glance at the back door where his wife had disappeared. "Why the hell your grandfather couldn't keep his penis in his pants until Lizzie gave birth, I will never understand."

Smiling faintly, Ray choked back a laugh. "Now, you wouldn't begrudge my granddaddy one last bang, would you? If a man's gotta go, I just assume it be while he's havin' a good time."

"Say that when it's _your_ wife that's about to pop, Ray, I dare you," Dave snarled, glaring at his passenger.

"Okay," Ray amended, bracing his hand on the dashboard when Dave took a turn on two wheels, "Point made. But she seems to be holding up okay, don't you think?"

"She has to," Dave grunted. "I threatened to tie her to the bed if I thought for one second she was getting overwhelmed. Plus, she's concentrating on your mother," Dave added.

"Yeah," Ray agreed, more subdued than before. "Mama's not looking too good, is she?"

"She'll be okay," Dave declared flatly. "We'll all be okay. We just need to get through the next few days without incident. And that means keeping a lid on your grandfather's actual cause of death. Did you talk to the undertaker like I told you to do?"

"I tried. I left a message that he talk to one of the men before he says anything to mama or opens that casket up. The problem is gonna be comin' up with a believable lie for that shit eatin' grin of his," Ray remarked, choking on his laughter again.

"He spotted Paradise in his last moments," Dave said, trying out the lie on his tongue.

"Oh, I'll be he did," Ray cackled as Dave pulled into a parking spot at the local Wal-mart.

Turning off the engine, Dave bent to rest his forehead on the wheel. "Sometimes I could really hate this family," he groaned to himself.


	188. Chapter 188

**Hello, friends! Just want to make a quick announcement that the May Challenge –"The Dearly Departed Death Fic Challenge" is available for sign-ups at the forum until April 30. We hope everybody will visit 'Chit Chat on Author's Corner' forum and give it a look. **

**Thanks for reading!**

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**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Eighty Eight**

Half an hour later, David Rossi shuddered as he resumed his position behind the wheel. Glancing back at the store he'd just left with a kind of horrified fascination, he heard Ray chuckle as he climbed back in the truck beside him.

"Not much of a shopper, are you?" Ray asked as he dropped two bags of ice by his feet.

Turning his head to look at the man beside him, Dave shook his head. "That wasn't shopping, man. Shopping is civilized. That was like some mutant redneck cage match on steroids."

"It wasn't that bad," Ray denied, not bothering to hold back his laughter. "It was just kinda busy."

"Ray, three little blue haired ladies almost body checked me in the dairy section. And what was with the long lost family reunions in the middle of the aisles? Is that some kind of southern thing? Congregating in the middle of Aisle 7?"

"Well, Wally World does have everything, even long lost relatives," Ray replied with a shrug, grinning widely at the other man's distress.

"Including a race to the finish line. Seriously, I've never heard so many screaming kids in my life. And did you see that brawl busting out over there?" he asked, gesturing toward the other end of the lot. "Those guys were like two prizefighters duking it out over a fucking parking space!"

"Well, it _was_ a premium spot," Ray maintained, unconcerned as he glanced in the direction Rossi indicated.

"You people are insane," Dave muttered as he started the engine. "Certi-fucking-fiable."

"Now, don't go gettin' your Yankee knickers in a twist," Ray counseled as he laughed. "We still gotta shed our tears, say our goodbyes, and give Granddaddy the send-off he deserves into Eternal Life."

"And if Lizzie and your mother find out exactly how he decided to say 'Bon Voyage'?

"Well, that's simple, Rossi," Ray returned with his trademark lazy drawl. "We'll all be sailing toward damnation together. Mama'll make sure of that."

**$$0000$$**

Anne Winstead had known grief in her life. She'd known tragedy. She'd even seen her fair share of misery. Standing at her father's coffin, however, she was hard pressed to remember ever feeling so lost.

Her daddy was gone.

True, he'd lived a long, full life and left behind a legacy of love, but it still hurt terribly. She comforted herself with the knowledge that he'd been reunited in Paradise with her Mama… that they now stood hand in hand at the gates of Heaven.

"Annie, darling?" her husband asked from behind her as he lightly touched her shoulder. "You alright, honey? Can I get you anything?"

Pressing her lace handkerchief to her mouth as words caught in her throat, she stared at the lid of the polished coffin. Swallowing hard, she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. It wouldn't do to carry on in public for the world to see. She'd shed her tears in private, among her family, where she knew no one would think her weak. "I'd like to see him," she said hoarsely, aware the funeral home attendant hovered somewhere nearby. "I want to see my daddy's face. Lift the lid, please," she requested quietly.

James winced as he exchanged a look with the undertaker behind Anne's back. The almost imperceptible shake of the younger man's head and the man's dilated pupils told him everything he needed to know. Despite his years of experience and skill with the dead, the poor fellow hadn't been able to remove the shit eating grin the old codger inside the box had worn when he departed this world for the next. Settling one hand against his wife's narrow waist, he took a half step closer. "Honey, don't put yourself through all that. Let's just let Papa rest in peace."

Glancing up at the man she'd been married to for over half her life, Anne narrowed her eyes. "I want to see my father, James. One last time. I need to make sure everything is right for him," she insisted. "Ask the man to open the coffin."

"Oh, Mrs. Winstead, I can promise you that everything is just fine for your father," the Undertaker assured her as he, too, stepped forward and rested a hand on the gleaming wood surface. "Everything I could do for your daddy, I did it, ma'am."

Nearly choking at the other man's words, James' own eyes widened as he shot the funeral home attendant a look that would freeze blood to a block of ice. "Come away, Annie, and let's get you some food. You haven't eaten a bite yet today."

"I am not particularly hungry, James, and don't care for anything to eat" Anne declared shortly, looking between the two men as she felt an uneasy feeling creep up her spine. "What I would like to do is say goodbye to the man who raised me. I want to look at his beloved face and tell him how much he meant to me. Now, if you please."

"Mrs. Winstead," the funeral home worker began hesitantly.

"Annie," James said in tandem with the other man, "Let's just…"

Holding up a hand, Annie bit out sharply, "Alright! What is going on with you two? Open this thing up and let me see my father!"

"But…" James tried again, knowing in his heart that all the words in the world wouldn't change his wife's mind when she got that look in her eye, but needing to try anyway.

"James Ethan Winstead, you either crack the lid on that thing," she threatened, jerking her head toward the wooden box, "or prepare to crawl right alongside my daddy inside it! It is _entirely_ your choice!"

Blinking slowly, James sighed. "Alright, honey," he murmured, nodding to the attendant. "Open the casket, son."

"You're sure, Mr. Winstead?" the Undertaker questioned weakly, fully aware of just how _satisfied_ his dearly departed customer appeared. The grin the man wore was a truly disturbing sight to see…and he'd seen a _lot _of things in his twenty plus years in the funeral business.

"He's sure," Anne snapped with an irritated scowl at the young man. "I'm sure. And I feel certain that my father, if he were here with us, would be sure!"

"I wouldn't place any money on that," James mumbled, more to himself than anyone else.

"What?" Anne asked, glancing over her shoulder.

"Nothing, Annie," James said, resigned to his fate. "Let's just get on with this," he told the nervous looking man in front of them. "Open 'er up."

Annie watched as the man unfastened the latches and slowly drew back the hood. Squeezing James hand in hers, they walked forward together and she forced herself to look down at the man she'd loved and depended on all her life. Jaw dropping as her eyes fell on her father's face, she tried to form words, finally choking, "Sweet, merciful Lord in Heaven! Why on Earth does he look like _that_?" she asked frantically, clutching James' arm in a death grip. Looking up at the Undertaker, she shook her head. "What did you _do_?"

"I did everything I possibly could, ma'am," the Undertaker replied truthfully. "Everything," he repeated adamantly. "No matter how hard I tried, though…"

Waving a hand, James shook his head at the younger man. "I don't think she needs to know the details," he interjected quickly, wrapping his arm around Annie and pulling her close. "The important thing here is that Papa died with a smile on his face and a song in his heart, Annie girl. Let's let that console us during these trying times."

Turning to stare at her husband in horrified wonder, Anne shook her head before shifting her gaze back to the coffin and her unnaturally happy looking departed daddy. "He had a heart attack, James. There's no way in the world he should look like _that. _It's unnatural!"

"Well, sweetie," a cracked and aging voice announced from the back of the room, "That really depends on how your sweet daddy went out of this world."


	189. Chapter 189

**So, we just wanted to give our readers a little information about what we've been doing the last couple of months and why updates have slowed to a trickle. We've been working on an original piece to be published under our professional penname, Sarah O'Rourke. Our new book, "Disturbed, Dazed and Delighted" will be available soon on . Until then, please check our Sarah O'Rourke's published books all available for Download on . We hope you enjoy them!**

**Now, on with the show…**

* * *

**Southern Traditions**

**Chapter One Hundred and Eighty-Nine**

Inhaling deeply as she took a step outside onto the wraparound porch, Lizzie rubbed her aching back. Kicking off her low heels, she flexed her toes against the wood slats and gazed at the long driveway.

"Where in the blue blazes are you, Dave? It's been forty-five minutes already," she mumbled unhappily, sagging into one of the weather beaten chairs lining the porch. Rubbing her tummy, she smiled down at the bulge. "See, baby, that's what you get when you send two men out to do a job a woman could do in fifteen minutes…ten, if the Carson's cows haven't wandered out of the pasture."

Stretching her cramping legs out in front of her, she cast a quick look over her shoulder. She'd seen in the most recent guest before she'd shed her shoes, and that last crowd has been a talkative group, to say the least. Strange, though, the Widow Mabry hadn't wanted to chat longer with her, and that woman was known for her ability to talk paint off the walls. Lord knew, however, that there wasn't any love lost between her and her mama. She'd half expected the elderly woman to simply pay her respects to her and turn around and go home.

But, no…the older woman had almost powered right through her to get inside the house. Lizzie supposed she was anxious to simply come what she'd arrive to do. Pay last respects and leave. It's what everybody else had done.

She just wished they'd all do it a little faster. Then, she and mama could get off their tired feet until tomorrow. As it was, her ankles looked like tree trunks, she silently bemoaned, lifting her legs to stare at them. The good Lord in heaven only knew what her darling husband was going to say about this recent turn of events. His ability to notice every single tiny change in her body was becoming legendary, much to her annoyance.

Hearing the screen door clatter behind her, Lizzie jerked upright in her chair, her thoughts jerking back to the present.

"It's just me, Sissy," Tommy remarked as he strolled onto the porch, loosening his tie with one hand. "Relax."

"That's hard to do when our granddaddy is layin' inside his coffin, and I've got a jumping bean in my belly," she complained, wincing as her child chose that moment to turn a somersault. Hissing as her belly contracted, she gripped the arms of the chair in a white knuckled grip.

"You okay?" Tommy asked quickly, watching his sister's usually animated face pale.

"Are you crazy? I'm like a beached whale over here," Lizzie growled, glaring at her brother. "No, I'm not okay! What the devil kind of question _is_ that?"

Holding up both hands, Tommy took a hasty step backward and away from his emotional sibling. "Sorry!"

Realizing how harsh she sounded, Lizzie swallowed hard and blinked back not so unexpected tears. "No, I am. I'm bein' as prickly as a porcupine. Just ignore me."

"Aw, hell, sissy," Tommy groaned, catching the glimmer of tears in her eyes. "Don't go turnin' into a watering pot. That husband of yours will skin me alive and scalp me for good measure. It's gonna be okay," he promised, reaching out to rub her shoulder. "This sorrow will pass, and that baby will be here before we know it and bring some joy back to the house. You just wait and see," he encouraged just as a truck appeared in the distance. "Now, stop your crying…you'd hate for Rossi to kill your favorite brother."

Laughing in spite of her breaking heart, Lizzie spotted the vehicle in the distance with relief. Wiping her eyes, Lizzie nodded. "Well, I'll try to save your life, Tommy," she said, waving her hand to wave weakly at her husband. Smiling as she watched him hurry out of the driver's seat, she yelled, "Where have ya'll been? That ice will be water as long as you've been, you slowpokes!"

"Honey, the mean streets of DC have nothing on your local Wal-mart," Dave stated with a shudder, hefting twin bags of ice onto the side of the porch before climbing the steps to his wife's side. Bending to kiss her, he splayed one hand over her belly. "Everything okay with the Peanut?"

"Just fine," Lizzie answered, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"You don't look okay," he growled, cupping her jaw and tilting her face back so that he could see her bruised eyes. "At all," he added with a hard look over her shoulder at the youngest Winstead brother. "Didn't I tell you to look after your sister?"

Exchanging a look with Lizzie, Tommy rolled his eyes. "See? What did I tell you?" Turning his gaze to Dave, he continued, "For your information, I've been following Lizzie Bear around like a damn puppy since you left."

"It's true," Lizzie agreed, nodding. "I just slipped out here while he was in the bathroom for a few minutes by myself."

Looking over his shoulder, Ray sighed. "At least it looks like the crowd is thinnin' out a bit. Maybe it'll just be family soon."

"I don't know about that," Lizzie denied, toeing back on her shoes. "The Widow Mabry just got here. I'm sure a few more will be along directly. They'll be the crowd just gettin' off work and all."

"What?" Ray squawked, dropping his bag of ice to the porch.

Frowning as the bag busted and cubes skittered everywhere, Lizzie groaned. "Ray! Look what you've done!"

"What I've done?" Ray yelled, flapping his arms. Grabbing his younger brother's collar and shaking him, he growled, "You let the _Widow_ in there? You was supposed to be standin' lookout!"

"I was!" Tommy yelped, struggling against his older brother's strong grip. "I was lookin' out for Lizzie! I guess I got sidetracked! I didn't know she was in there! I swear!"

"Wait," Lizzie interrupted, waving both hands in the humid air. "Why does it matter?"

Rising to his feet, Dave audibly sighed as Anne Winstead's shriek echoed out the open kitchen doorway.

It appeared Act 2, Scene 1 of this southern comedy of errors had commenced.


End file.
